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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27832816">AOT x Reader One-Shot Collection</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficbunnyKay/pseuds/ficbunnyKay'>ficbunnyKay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Canon Universe, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Dad Levi, Dad eren, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gender-neutral Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Nonbinary Hange Zoë, One Shot Collection, POV Second Person, Parenthood, Pregnancy, Reader-Insert, Titan Jean Kirstein, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Writer Eren Yeager</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:47:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,122</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27832816</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficbunnyKay/pseuds/ficbunnyKay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of reader-insert one-shots featuring attack on titan boys (and girls maybe at some point), updated whenever I write a new one. Summaries and any additional necessary warnings will be provided before each story.<br/>Requests are open~!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Connie Springer/Reader, Eren Yeager/Reader, Jean Kirstein/Reader, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>274</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. the Pitfalls of Living with a Novelist</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eren x gender-neutral Reader<br/>While your boyfriend, Eren, writes in your shared bedroom, you've been asked not to disturb him under any circumstances.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You hear yet another anguished cry come from your bedroom down the hall, causing you to look up from your book momentarily. You sigh deeply and shake your head. There’s nothing you can do to help him, so you might as well just snuggle under a blanket in the living room and try to finish your book. This is getting increasingly difficult, however, as the sounds coming from your bedroom are getting harder and harder to ignore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three hours ago, you had been sitting just here doing just this when Eren had emerged from the bathroom after a shower, crackling with restless energy. Before he even spoke, you’d known what was up because of how he was dressed. Sweatpants and a flannel, hair tied back. That’s his writing outfit. You had not, however, anticipated the magnitude of the task you were about to be sicced with. As Eren made himself a cup of coffee, he’d said the following: “Today is a very important day. Fernando is getting on a Greyhound bus to meet his birth mother in Arizona.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fernando is the name of the main character of the novel that Eren has been hammering away at for over a month now. You aren’t allowed to read any of Eren’s drafts until he finishes a full first draft, but he does tend to tell you what’s going on in the world he created, so this new knowledge had piqued your interest. “Oooh, and what’s going to happen to him there?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a hundred percent sure yet. I have to meet his mom first, but it’s not going to be all sunshine and smiles. This is going to be tough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And… I have a request to make of you.” At this point, he had crossed into the living room with his cup of coffee to sit down next to you with a very serious expression on his face. “I need you to not try to talk to me or anything until I come back out of the bedroom.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This had been nothing new. “Yeah, of course. Don’t I always?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but… This time is going to be different. Everything that Fernando is, is riding on this meeting. So this is going to be very intense, and I might not come out of it for a while. But no matter what happens, I need to get him through this scene. And in order to do that, I can’t distance myself at all from his situation, or else I’ll lose his voice or the narrative or both. No matter what the cost, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I must not falter or try to make myself feel better.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… I need you to promise me that you won’t try to help me or comfort me, okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hadn’t really had any idea what he meant, so you’d just said, “Okay, yeah, I promise. No problem.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren had smiled gently, leaned forward to give you a quick peck on the forehead, and then retreated into your shared bedroom. For the first hour or so, your apartment had been filled with nothing but silence. By now, though, your reading is being frequently interrupted by the sound of sniffles and the occasional emotional outcry. At first, you just shook your head at him, but now that it’s been happening on and off for quite some time, you are starting to feel very restless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You realize that you’ve re-read the same paragraph five times and still can’t understand a word of it. You’re much too distracted by Eren to read, so you puzzle over what you should do with yourself. You would turn on the television and try to drown out the noise, but you don’t want to distract him at all should it prolong this horrible process. You suddenly have a stroke of genius; you pick up your phone off the couch next to you and dial a number. The other end picks up after three rings. “Hello?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Mikasa? Are you busy right now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, not really. What’s up, (y/n)?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could use some advice. When you and Eren were living together, did he ever lock himself in his bedroom and ask you not to bother him?” You’ve been living with Eren for almost a year, but before that, he had lived with his sister, Mikasa, for most of his life. You figure that any strange thing Eren could possibly do, Mikasa has seen it before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, all the time. Every time he was going to write.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. But did he ever, like… Tell you that you couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>comfort</span>
  </em>
  <span> him? No matter what you might… hear?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hear a stifled chuckle from the other end of the line. “Yes, that happened a couple times. Why? What’s going on right now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mikasa, he sounds like a wounded animal.” As if on cue, you hear a deep sob emanate from the bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that him?” Mikasa asks, and you figure she could hear Eren even through the phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, that’s him. I don’t know what to do right now!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighs. “Look, I know it’s hard. He’s been doing this ever since he graduated from short stories to longer fiction. Honestly, I’m shocked it’s taken this long to happen to you. Take it from me, though-- you don’t want to bother him right now. I remember the first time this happened. I’m guessing he gave you a pretty strict warning before he went in?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heh. Yeah, that’s because of me. When I heard him that first time, I immediately went into his room, and he was a total mess. He did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> like it, and he kind of freaked out on me. After that, each time it happened, I kind of just had to deal with it. Trust me, even if you tried to talk to him right now, all that would happen is that he’d say you’ve interrupted his flow and then pout for the rest of the day, and then you’d be dealing with this same exact thing again tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sigh into the receiver. “But what am I supposed to do with myself? This is really stressing me out. I can’t focus on my book.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I used to use earplugs, but after a few times I just kind of adjusted to it. You will too, I promise. And anyway, it’ll be over eventually, and then he’s going to require lots of gentle petting.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay… okay. Is there anything else I should know?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um… no, I don’t think so. Oh wait, yeah; he won’t ask for this, but he always really appreciates pasta that same evening. You don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to do that, or anything. Just a tip.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you are a seasoned veteran.” You chuckle. “Okay, I think I’d better go. I have to focus.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heh. Okay, bye, (y/n).” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bye, Mikasa. Thanks so much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You decide to listen to a podcast with earbuds in. Your earbuds don’t have noise cancellation, but they mostly drown out any sounds coming out of the bedroom, which is all the way on the other side of the apartment. You don’t have to listen very intently to the podcast to understand it, which is good because you’re pretty distracted. It’s a good thing, too, that you don’t have any work to do right now, because it would either be done very sloppily or not at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’ve always appreciated that your boyfriend is very headstrong, emotional, and dramatic, so this is just one of those times that those things result in a bit of discomfort on your end. You pride yourself in your ability to bring Eren back down to earth when he gets angry or upset, so the most bothersome thing about this situation is that you’re specifically barred from using those talents. Plus, you know that if Eren is writing about his main character’s mother, it’s probably bringing up a lot of feelings about his own mother who passed when he was little. This knowledge makes you feel incredibly protective over him, a feeling that manifests itself in the form of relentless fidgeting in your hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After about an hour, Eren’s on-again-off-again muted noises graduate into full-blown ugly crying, which manages to penetrate the forcefield of your earbuds. “Oh, for God’s sake,” you whisper to yourself, your eyebrows knitting together in concern. “How can he even write if he’s crying like this?” However, after about ten minutes, the storm seems to pass and he quiets down, eventually fading into silence. In the quiet, you manage to get back to your book. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Half an hour later, you hear the gentle opening of a door, and the soft tapping of feet moving across the floor. You look up to see Eren trudging across the apartment with his eyes on the floor. “Hey,” you say quietly, your voice communicating maximum softness and gentleness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi.” Not looking at you, he crosses into the living room and throws himself down next to you on the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You put your book down on the coffee table next to you. “How did it go?” you ask, unsure of whether or not you’re supposed to acknowledge that you could hear him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fernando’s mom doesn’t want to have a relationship with him,” Eren mumbles, his voice breaking on the last word. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, honey. Come here.” You hold out your arm to let Eren lay down and rest his head in your lap. When he looks up at you, his boyish face is red and puffy, his shining green eyes clearly abused by hours of tearful strife. You rest your right hand at the center of his chest and gently feel him with your thumb, your left hand falling to release his thick, dark hair from its rubber band and run your fingers through it. “Well, it’s over now, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” He sniffs and closes his eyes, subtly leaning his head into your touch. You smooth his hair away from his forehead and bend your head down to kiss him at his hairline, his temple, the tip of his nose. You straighten up, and he opens his eyes, now glowing with affection. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you feel okay?” you ask. “That was probably pretty hard on you, I know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren nods slightly. “Mhm. I’m okay, though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure, baby?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” He raises a hand to lift yours off his chest and place a gentle kiss on the heel of your palm. His soft pink lips turn up at the ends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You return his smile. “Hey, are you hungry?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t we order some pasta?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren beams up at you. “Yes, please.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Earlybird</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eren x gender-neutral Reader<br/>Your live-in boyfriend, Eren, has a job that wakes him up before sunrise. One morning, you're pondering the significance of a change in his wake-up routine and come to a realization.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You awaken to the sound of an alarm piercing through the pitch-darkness of your bedroom. Hardly conscious to the world, you pull your knees in closer to your chest and nuzzle your head into your pillow. It’s not your alarm, and therefore not your responsibility to turn off, nor is it anywhere close to the time you need to wake up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The time is 4:30 AM, and the alarm is Eren’s. Your live-in boyfriend of two and a half years is the assistant manager of a cafe down the street from your apartment building, and since the cafe opens at 6 AM and Eren works opening shifts, he needs to arrive by 5 AM to set things up. He gets Thursdays and Sundays off, but every other day of the week, he’s out of bed before you’ve risen… or the sun, for that matter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Such has been the routine for about six months. It’s great that Eren got this promotion, but you could honestly do without the interruption to your sleep five mornings out of the week. All the same, though, the new job came with a significant pay raise, so your joint life in a small city is now much more comfortable and virtually devoid of anxiety over payment of bills. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You feel Eren slowly roll over next to you with a soft groan, and the piercing sound of the alarm turns off. You probably won’t be able to fall back asleep until Eren leaves the apartment, but in the meantime, you do your best not to lose your relaxation and sleepiness and keep your eyes shut against the faint twilight of early morning seeping in through your window. The weight of the bed shifts again as Eren rolls back over to face the back of you. He slowly wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close to him as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and drapes a leg over your hips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, you remember that you were supposed to get an email last night about the status of a package you’d ordered from Etsy, and that you fell asleep before getting it. Careful not to escape from Eren’s embrace, you open your eyes halfway to reach for your phone on your bedside table. When you open, there’s no email, and you decide to deal with it when you wake up for real in a few hours. You also notice the time-- 4:26 AM. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shut your phone off again and place it back on your table. You shut your eyes and wiggle into the warm, protective comfort Eren is providing you as you sleepily mumble, “Thought your alarm was for 4:30?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm-hm.” Eren breathes into your neck. “It was for a while, but I ended up needing an extra five minutes to get to work on time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm.” You accept this answer as logical-- at least, logical enough that your half-conscious brain does not find any obvious flaws in it. Vaguely, you remember that when Eren first got this job, he used to spring out of bed immediately after his alarm went off, so it makes sense that he’s since added those extra five minutes as a cushion. Although… even now, when he gets out of bed, he moves around the apartment with the same hurried sense of purpose he had before. Those extra five minutes aren’t to make his morning routine any easier or less rushed. So, what are they for? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All these thoughts are making you lose your sleepiness, so you silence them, resolving to let them play out in the daylight. That is, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>try</span>
  </em>
  <span> to silence them, until Eren breathes deeply against your neck and angles his head to plant a soft kiss on your jawline. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes open. Every single morning, when Eren first got the job, the alarm would go off at 4:30 and he would spring into action, getting out of the apartment within fifteen minutes. Somewhere along the way, he set the alarm five minutes earlier, but it had no effect on how much time he took to get ready after he got out of bed. Another change you’d noticed in the past few months is that Eren has developed a habit of spooning you after his alarm goes off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pieces have fallen into place. Eren has been setting his alarm early for months now, sacrificing precious sleep time to get a few minutes of snuggle time with you before he has to get out of bed in the morning. And he hasn’t even taken credit for doing that. It’s been a secret of sorts-- an element of his routine that you’re not necessarily meant to be privy to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If you were terribly hormonal (and fully awake) this realization would most likely cause you to tear up. As it happens, you’re not, so all you feel is a powerful warmth radiating from your chest and affection seeping out through your pores. Slowly, you turn yourself over under the covers to face Eren. His sleep-addled eyes open, catching what little light there is in your bedroom. You tilt your chin and plant a soft kiss on his forehead. You wrap your arms around his back and your left leg around his waist and pull him in close to you, holding his head against your chest. You bury a hand in his thick bedhead hair and run your fingers through it, careful not to catch on any of the tangles. Eren lets out a sound that’s half-moan, half-sigh-- a sound of ultimate contentment and relaxation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few minutes of you petting his hair and gently feeling the skin of his back with your opposite thumb, Eren mumbles into your chest, “I have to get up now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” You release your hold on him and allow him to move away from you. After he gets out of bed, he crosses to stand by your side of it and reaches a hand down to brush the hair from your face and he kisses your cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eyes closed, you smile at him and wriggle around a bit under the sheets like a pleased little worm. You’re vaguely aware of Eren quietly moving about the apartment as you fall back into a deep sleep. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Cravings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eren x pregnant Reader<br/>You're having a particularly emotional evening brought on by your pregnancy hormones, and Eren is making his very best effort to help you along.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After a shower, Eren walks out of the bathroom of your one-bedroom apartment in black sweatpants with a towel draped around his neck to catch the droplets falling from his hair onto his bare shoulders. You’re sitting on the couch with your feet up, watching a brainless Hallmark movie on live TV. A loose t-shirt and a big, fluffy blanket conceal the bump of your abdomen which is just barely starting to become noticeable. It’s wintertime in the city, and you’re in the first trimester of your pregnancy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren plops down next to you on the couch, warmth radiating off of him from the shower. You and he have been dating for three years and living together for one. When you’d missed your period a couple months back and a pregnancy test rendered a positive result, you’d been a bit nervous to tell Eren about it. Your relationship had been so solid that you were worried that a baby would ruin it, or you were worried that he would want you to get an abortion, which you did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> want, and that he would want nothing to do with it when you said you wanted to keep it. Fortunately, none of that happened, and you’d realized later that you were silly to ever worry. Eren had been so thrilled when you told him that you’d think you’d told him you’d won the lottery. At the same time, you’d emphasized that you didn’t want to change the nature of your relationship because of the baby at all-- getting engaged now would mean trying to get married before the baby comes, which would be very stressful. So, instead, you’re continuing to live together and preparing yourselves for a new long-term roommate; the two of you are very modern and progressive in that way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Admittedly, you’re getting a bit tearful watching this stupid Hallmark movie. Everything makes you cry now; the pregnancy hormones make sure of that. You’ve read in one of your pregnancy books that a woman’s hormones double every three days during her first trimester. Just the other day, you cried at a cat food commercial because the owner was being so nice to their new kitten. Eren notices you getting a bit misty and asks, “You okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sniff and smile at him. “Yeah, I’m good. It’s just… I’m really proud of Rachel for discovering the true meaning of Christmas.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren laughs and ruffles your hair. “Okay.” He gets up off the couch and starts to walk into the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, a strange look falls on your face as your eyes widen. “Hey, Eren?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think you could run out and get me some Triscuits?” Ever since you’ve announced your pregnancy, there’s been an unspoken agreement between you and Eren that he is to be at your constant beck and call for anything you might need to deal with the various aches, pains, and hormonal frenzies of your pregnancy. Really, this isn’t very different from how you guys were beforehand. What’s different is that you’re actually willing to allow him to baby you, where in the past you’ve been very independent and self-sufficient. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Triscuits?” Eren asks, confused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I just… I just really want some Triscuits right now. I’m, like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>craving</span>
  </em>
  <span> Triscuits. I don’t know why.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren chuckles. “Okay. I’ll go run out and grab some after my hair dries. I’ll leave in, like, twenty minutes.” Eren opens the fridge to look for a coconut water, but his attention is beckoned back in your direction by the sound of a loud sniff and heavy, scattered breathing. When he looks back at you, there are tears streaming down your cheeks and your whole face has turned red. He immediately closes the fridge and rushes to your side. “Oh, my God. Are you okay? Are you hurt? What’s happening? Is it Braxton-Hicks?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You take a deep, shaky breath and look into his eyes. Your eyes are glassy and overflowing with animalistic rage and sorrow. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I need the Triscuits NOW!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” you roar weepily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Extremely startled, Eren stumbles backward and almost falls flat on his back. He recovers quickly, though, and springs into action. “Okay. Okay, I’ll leave right now. Right this second.” He flutters around the apartment, getting his keys, wallet, and a winter jacket and boots which he puts on without a shirt or socks. “There’s a convenience store right around the corner. I’ll be back in ten minutes or less, okay? Okay, here I go. I’ll be right back.” He flies out of the door without waiting for a response, which is just fine because you can’t talk anyway due to the hormonal sobbing that is still in progress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren manages to get to the convenience store in three minutes flat. He arrives in an unhinged frenzy, searching desperately for Triscuits. He feels like he’s your own personal Batman, and that these crackers determine the fate of Gotham City, which is to say that he feels very important and that his mission is very serious. When he finds the Triscuits, he’s horror-struck at the revelation that there are multiple kinds. He immediately whips out his phone to text you: </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Which kind do you want? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There’s five different kinds here. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He then sends a photo of the shelf. Within seconds, he gets a text back that reads:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All of them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“All of them,” Eren whispers to himself affirmatively, grabbing one of each box, not bothering to question your demands. Time is of the essence. He brings the boxes to the cashier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eren?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren snaps his head to the left. There, having just entered the store is his and your neighbor and friend, Levi. “Oh, hey, Levi. What’s up?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Levi eyes the counter. “That’s a lot of Triscuits.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah. I, um… I like Triscuits.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You and Eren haven’t told anyone yet about your being pregnant. Since it’s still the first trimester, you know that you’re not meant to tell anyone yet just in case you were to lose it. That way, you wouldn’t then have to go through the ordeal of telling everyone you’ve ever met that there’s nothing to be excited about any longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” Levi narrows his eyes. “You seem flustered.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? Huh. I can’t imagine why.” Eren inserts his card into a chip reader at the instruction of the cashier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Levi observes, gears turning. “You know, Eren, when Petra was pregnant, she craved pretzels. More than once, I had to run out in the middle of the night to get some.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh. That’s interesting.” Eren removes his card from the reader as the cashier hands him his big paper grocery bag filled with Triscuits. “Cute story, Levi. I gotta go now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren blows past him on his way out of the store, and Levi rolls his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In another three minutes, Eren has returned to the apartment, bringing his total time to only eight minutes. Very impressive. He’s pleased to see that the storm has mostly passed with you, with just some residual little sniffs and red streaks on your face. He delivers the bag to you and places each of the boxes on the couch with you. “Okay, this is all of the kinds they had.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You immediately grab onto the Original box and open it, quickly lifting two Triscuits into your mouth. You can feel your blood pressure leveling out already as you chew. “Thank you,” you say through a full mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren breathes a sigh of relief and sits down on the floor in front of you, unzipping his jacket. “So I did it right? This is good?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” You see that Eren didn’t take the time to put on a shirt on his way out. “You know, you didn’t have to rush. It’s not that big of a deal.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“(Y/n), you were sobbing. That’s the hardest I’ve ever seen you cry. What was I supposed to do?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Eren, I cry at everything now, right? It doesn’t really mean anything.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no.” He puts his hands on your knees. “You needed something from me. This is my job.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I don’t want to be so high-maintenance.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? No. Listen.” Eren puts one big hand on your belly bump and holds the side of your face with the other, the calloused pad of his thumb brushing on your cheek. “You are creating </span>
  <em>
    <span>life</span>
  </em>
  <span> with your </span>
  <em>
    <span>body</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You’re entitled to make requests of me, and be as emotional as you need to be. Surely, if you can provide us with a child that looks like us, then I can provide you with Triscuits.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smile. “Well… okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren unearths one of your feet from under your blanket, and props it against his knee to massage your ankle. It’s not common this early on, but your ankles have already developed a semi-constant ache to them in the past week or so. You’ve always tended to have some joint pain, so it makes sense that you’re having foot and ankle swelling earlier than is normal. Eren knows this, understands, is sensitive to it as he is with all other things in the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he’s rubbing your ankles without even being asked. Your mouth full of Triscuits, your eyes start to water again and you sniff. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren looks up at you, eyes full of concern. “Oh, no. What’s wrong?” He really is having a tremendously difficult time adjusting to mood swings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A gasping sob leaves your mouth through the Triscuit mush. “You’re really n-nice…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren laughs. “Thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You swallow and take a deep, shaky breath. Since your Triscuits craving is being satisfied, your childbearing ancestors have a new demand, and are now telling you that you need your partner pressed up against you immediately. “Come here, please.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heh. Okay, here I come.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren sits down next to you on the couch and you wrap your arms around his waist and lean your head into his chest, relishing the feeling of his hot skin on your cheek. He wraps an arm around you, resting his hand on your baby bump, and kisses the top of your head. You keep eating your craving snack, munching happily as Eren’s skin warms you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You clear your throat. “Hm. Triscuits’re making my mouth dry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want some tea?” Eren asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, please.” Eren moves to get up, but you weigh him down. “No, don’t get up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t want me to get up?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...But you want tea?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren stifles a laugh and shakes his head. “Do you see the problem?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you want me to make you tea, I have to get up and walk to the kitchen.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” You pause thoughtfully. “Okay, no. Just stay here. I don’t want tea.” You hold him closer, lifting your legs and swinging them over his lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His arm around your shoulders, Eren ruffles the top of your head and holds your legs in place with his opposite hand. “As you wish.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this was loosely based on a mike birbiglia sketch, if anyone happens to recognize it. hope you enjoyed!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Hard Day's Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Levi x female Reader<br/>You get stuck in traffic on your way home from work, but by the time you get home, there's a lovely surprise waiting for you, courtesy of your husband and daughter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You drum your fingers on the steering wheel as you hum along to the radio. You’re on the main road on your way to pick your daughter, Isabel, up from daycare as the sun starts to hang low in the sky. It’s a Friday, and after a long week of work, you’re very much ready to collect your little girl and bring her home. And then, soon after you arrive, your husband, Levi, will be home as well, and the three of you will have dinner together. Domesticity really can be a tremendous comfort in the face of the trials and tribulations of everyday life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the distance, you can see brake lights twinkling on the road ahead of you. “Oh, no…” As you get closer, you notice that an endless chain of stopped cars extends far, far down the road. None of them are even inching along. You sigh in exasperation and knock your head back into the headrest. After you’ve been stopped for a few moments, you pull out your phone and open Waze to check out the traffic situation. There’s a huge red line down the road you’re currently driving on, with a little label denoting an average pace of 2 mph. You examine the map further and see that the backup extends for a little over three miles, and you know you won’t have an opportunity to get off this road for at least a mile and a half. You estimate that you’re going to be stuck on this road for nearly an hour. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit.” You see that the brake lights in front of you have turned off though the car doesn’t move, so you follow suit and put your own car in park. The time is 5:04. There’s no way you’re going to be able to get to Isabel’s daycare by 5:30, and if you’re late, the daycare is going to be very upset with you. You know that if you’re consistently late, they stop taking your child, and it had already been so hard to get a spot for her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You groan and take out your phone again to call Levi. He picks up after the third ring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, what’s up?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You rest your face in your hand. “Hey. Are you on your way home right now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you get Isabel from daycare?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um… Yeah, I guess I could. Why? Is everything okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just stuck in this huge traffic jam. There’s no way I can get her on time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit. Okay, yeah, I can get her. I’ll just take a detour on my way home.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sigh in relief. “Thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a problem. She’s my daughter too, after all. When do you think you’ll be home?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no idea. Depends on whether this jam lets up. I might not be home until after 6, honestly. I haven’t moved at all since I hit this backup. I have no idea what the hell’s happening.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, that sucks. Try not to worry about it, alright? I can get there on time. We’ll be waiting for you when you get back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smile tiredly into the phone as if he can actually see you. “Okay. I’ll let you go now. I don’t want you to get in a crash.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, bye. Love you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love you too. Buh-bye.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ETA you gave to Levi ends up being pretty accurate, as it is 5:58 by the time you finally roll into your driveway. If you thought you were tired before, that was nothing compared to how you feel now. You’d swear you’ve never been so exhausted and frustrated in your life, even though all you’ve been doing is sitting still for an hour. Something about traffic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You trudge into the mud room of your home and kick off your shoes, throwing your purse down haphazardly on a bench beside you. “I’m home!” you call out. No answer. Confused and more than a little irritated, you go into the living room, expecting to find Levi and Isabel there, and instead finding nothing. “Hello?” you say into the house. Still nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, you hear a short, excited-sounding unintelligible noise coming from the other side of the house. You perk your head up and follow the noise. As you close in on it, you realize it’s coming from yours and Levi’s bedroom. There’s music and chatter coming from the other side of the door that you can’t quite make out the specifics of. You open the door slowly and quietly, and when you poke your head through, you have a few seconds to examine the scene before you’re noticed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Levi is sitting crisscross applesauce on your bedspread, changed out of his work clothes and into a faded old t-shirt and sweatshorts. His eyes are shut, and his bangs have been clipped away from his face with one of your barrettes. Also on the bed is Isabel, kneeling in front of Levi in a pink costume dress. In one hand, she holds a big makeup brush, and in the other, some small makeup palette type thing you haven’t identified yet. Those items are not alone-- strewn about the bedspread are what you’re sure is every piece of makeup you own. Levi’s cheeks are impossibly pink, and there are potent smudges of green, purple, and yellow eyeshadow not only on his eyelids but all around his eyes and extending to his temples. You think it’s possible that she even plucked his eyebrows. The music playing-- from Levi’s phone, probably-- is some Disney song that you can’t quite place in the moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A huge smile has broken across your face and you decide to announce yourself, “What’s going on in here?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both heads snap to face you. “Mommy!” Isabel calls out. She drops her makeup supplies, letting them fall where they may, and scrambles off the bed to launch herself into you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You might have gotten knocked down if you weren’t extremely used to Isabel’s enthusiastic, physically careless nature. “What are you up to, Munchkin?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her arms still wrapped around your hips, Isabel tilts her head up to you to fix her huge, bright eyes on your face with a wide grin. “Me and Daddy are playing princesses!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s fantastic.” You address your next rhetorical question to Isabel, though you look at Levi as you say it. “Did someone get into my makeup?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Levi gives you a deranged-looking closed-mouth smile and nods as Isabel says, “Yes! I did! I made Daddy look pretty!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For a change,” you tease as you lift Isabel off the floor and approach the bed to more closely examine Levi’s makeup look. “Wow, Izzy, you did a really great job.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isabel squirms out of your grasp and throws herself on the bed. “Mommy, I couldn’t figure out what to do with this.” She grabs a thin object in her fist and thrusts it toward you. “Daddy said he didn’t know what it was, either.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You take it from her gently. “Let’s see, here. Oh, this is eyeliner. Here, look, I have some of this on now.” You close one eye and point to a thin black streak on your lash line. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I get it!” Isabel reaches to take back your eye pencil. “Okay, lemme try now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hold it out of her reach. “No, I don’t think so, honey. We don’t want Daddy to lose an eye.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw…” Isabel pouts and throws her body down on the bed, causing the mattress to bounce her a couple times. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You reach out and wrestle her off the bed, placing her on her feet next to you. You crouch down in front of her. “Izzy, why don’t you go put on your PJs, okay? And then we can talk about what we want to do for dinner.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay…” She dramatically trudges out of the room, princess dress trailing along with her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You turn back to Levi, who is still sitting with his legs folded on the bed. “Hi.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” he responds, feigning annoyance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look very pretty.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” He heaves himself off the bed with a grunt, then approaches you to give you a quick greeting peck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to borrow one of my makeup wipes?” you ask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh…” Levi looks in the full-length mirror along the wall and examines his face, then takes out the barrette and tousles his hair. “Nah. I like it. I’ll just let it come off in the shower.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You giggle. “Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re in a better mood than I thought you’d be in.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You cock your head. “Why wouldn’t I be in a good mood?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He returns your confusion. “The traffic?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” You shake your head. “God, I completely forgot about that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Levi chuckles. “I bet. What do you want to do about dinner?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You groan. “Levi, I really don’t feel like cooking right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head, amused. “I didn’t think you would. I was thinking either I could cook or we could just order in.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Yeah, let’s just order in.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, sure. How ab-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From down the hallway: “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m stuck! I’m stuck in my dress! Help! Help! I’m stuck in my dress!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sigh. “Okay, I’ll go deal with that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Levi is already blowing past you. “No, I got it. You should change out of your work clothes. Get comfy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smile. “Okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Coming, Izzy!” Levi calls out as he leaves your bedroom. You change into sweats in his absence, reflecting on how lucky you are to come home to your adorable, energetic daughter covering your very patient husband in your makeup. This is truly domestic bliss. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Stay at Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eren x female Reader<br/>Today is Eren's first day back at work since you gave birth to your daughter Carla last month. She's asleep in your arms when he gets home.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s unbelievable how powerful hormones can be. There’s nothing more difficult in the world than staying awake when your infant daughter has just fallen asleep in your arms after nursing, especially when you’re so sleep-deprived, as is common for a new parent. Sitting there on your well-worn couch with little Carla in your arms, you feel like you’ve just taken four Tylenol and four Benadryl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But you have to stay awake if you want to keep holding her, which you do. It’s not safe to fall asleep with a baby in your arms, especially since there’s no one else home right now. What if you were to drop her? No: you have to stay awake. After all, if you were asleep, you wouldn’t be able to lean down and smell the little baby’s head and the back of her neck, like you are now. Such a sweet and gentle smell that stirs up your maternal instincts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a very fair Monday, the springtime sunlight of late afternoon pouring in through the windows of your living room. The house you bought with your husband Eren is a modest single-story home in a very cute neighborhood. Each house looks a little bit different and each family that lives in them has a different style of keeping their yard. It’s the kind of neighborhood that when you drive through it, you can’t help but imagine how nice it would be to live there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The house itself had been a bit of a fixer-upper, though. Your engagement with Eren hadn’t just been about planning a wedding and enjoying being fiancees-- it had also been about getting the house ready to live in. The kitchen had been a total redo as well as one of the bathrooms, and the entire house needed floors replaced and walls repainted, not to mention that it came unfurnished, so you’d had to meticulously decorate as well. But the house had been within your price range, even considering all the improvements you two’ve had to make, and now you have a lovely little home in which to start your lives together and raise your daughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren should be home from work pretty soon. It’s his first day back since you gave birth a month ago-- a very big deal for establishing a daily routine in your lives. This day is what all days are going to look like until you yourself go back to work in another five months. Really, you’d been lucky-- it was a miracle that the company Eren works for gave any paternity leave for fathers, and six months for you is more than most new mothers could hope for. It had certainly helped that you’d been promoted recently and were doing a hell of a job so far. The raise that it came with also meant that when the time came for you to go back to work, you’d be able to afford a part-time nanny on the days that none of either of your extended family members or neighbors would be able to watch Carla. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s all a long way off, though. Your only concerns day-to-day are about how you’re getting yourself and Carla through until bedtime. And ‘bedtime,’ of course, is a very generous term, since you get interrupted several times a night to nurse, do a diaper change, or frantically guess at what’s bothering Carla until you realize that she just wants to be held until she falls asleep again. And right now, since Carla is sound asleep in your arms, freshly fed and freshly burped and freshly changed, all you’re worried about is not falling asleep and anticipating your husband’s imminent arrival. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before long, you hear the door that leads from your garage into your house open with a creak. There’s the sounds of shoes being kicked off and keys and a jacket being hung, then Eren wanders into the living room. It’s a familiar sight, Eren getting home somewhat disheveled and exhausted after a long day at work, even though you haven’t seen it for a month. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, how’re y-” Eren starts to say from across the room, but you pucker your lips at him in a silent </span>
  <em>
    <span>shush</span>
  </em>
  <span> and flick your eyes toward Carla asleep in your arms. He nods and very quietly steps into the living room and crosses to sit down next to you. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and rests his head in the crook between your shoulder and your neck, staring down at his daughter and winding his legs up with yours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How was your first day back?” you whisper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,’ Eren breathes, and turns his head to kiss where your jawline meets your neck. “I missed you. Both of you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We missed you too.” You smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were you okay without me here today? Just by yourself and everything? You didn’t get overwhelmed or anything?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it was okay. Obviously, it’s easier with you here, but I can handle it on my own. It’s fine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Good.” Eren buries his face in your shoulder, exposed by your wide-necked shirt, and rubs his nose on your bare skin. Carla starts to stir a bit in your arms, wriggling her arms around and making little grunts and coos. She opens her eyes-- green and shining just like her father’s-- and reaches out a chubby, clumsy arm to grab at Eren’s work shirt with her ravioli-sized baby fist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You say in an ultra-soft voice, “Aw, Carlie, you want your daddy?” Eren unwraps his arm from your shoulders as you very gently hand Carla over to him. “I think she’s feeling particularly sweet and snuggly right now,” you say. “I just fed her a little bit before you got home.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Carla makes it securely into her father’s arms, she settles down again right away, closing her eyes and falling back into her nap. Eren watches her with a very mournful look on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” you ask him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m okay,” he answers in a voice just above a whisper. “Just… it was really hard being away from you guys today.” You nod and start to rub the back of his neck with one hand, urging him to say more. “I mean, I knew it would be. I didn’t think it would be easy, but… I couldn’t focus on anything. All day. I just kept thinking about… I’m missing so much here. And not just today, but down the line. I mean… what if I’m at work one day, and she takes her first steps while I’m gone? I can’t just miss things like that. And not just huge milestones like that, either. The day-to-day, minute-to-minute. I don’t want to miss a second of it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nod. “Yeah, I get it. I know how you feel. I haven’t left her alone for a second today, and I just can’t get enough of her. I never want to leave her either, but… I know I’ll have to at some point.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren tilts his head and shrugs. “Yeah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he still looks like he has something on his mind. Eren is all surface: what you see is what you get. He doesn’t try to keep his emotions from playing out on his face, and even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to hide from you. You know him too well. “What? What is it?” you ask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren shakes his head. “I just don’t think I can do this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Can’t do what?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t go back to working full time. I can’t do it. It’s too hard.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your face fills with concern. “What? What do you mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just can’t. I can’t stay away from you guys. It’s impossible. It can’t be done.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You try to make sense of the situation. “Okay. Um… Well, do you think you could ask your boss for some more time off?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren sighs and shuts his eyes. “I already asked today. He says the most that he could give me is another week. If I want more than that, it would be unpaid leave, not paid leave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Basically, I have a ceiling of five weeks of paid parental leave. After that, I can get up to a year of unpaid leave, and they basically hire a temp to keep up while I’m gone, so my job is still there when I get back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, that makes sense.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it isn’t enough. I can’t…” Eren sputters air past his lips. “I can’t stay here knowing my job is hanging over my head. I just don’t know what to do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your husband is starting to crumble. “Okay. Don’t worry, alright? We can figure this out.” You run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head with one hand and gently scratch at his cheek with the other. “Maybe you could go part-time? Would that be enough? I mean, you want to keep your job, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care about the job.” He shakes his head, pauses, then looks at you, eyes full of distress. “I think I need to quit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been thinking this for a while, honestly. Since you’ve been pregnant. It was hard enough being away from you then, but at least I knew you had people around to help you while you were at work, and if you were feeling really bad and had to stay home, I could take a sick day to be with you. But even then, I could barely focus on work. And now… I’ve been dreading going back ever since we had her. But I went back anyway, because that’s what I’m supposed to do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby, you’ve never even mentioned this before! I had no idea you were feeling like this…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I didn’t say anything because I just… I felt like I wanted to be strong for you and provide for you. But I hate this. I never liked my job much, but now it’s unbearable because it’s keeping me away from you and Carla. So I want to quit. But… I’m the man. I’m the father. My job is to be the breadwinner. And if I can’t even do that, then…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren is spiraling, and his voice is starting to crack. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. Here, listen.” You take his face in both of your hands and make him look you in the eyes. “This does not fall on you. Okay? You are no more responsible for providing money than I am. Just like I’m not any more responsible for being Carla’s caretaker than you are.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that. I mean, I know that in my head, but it’s different in reality. Like, I’m not the one that breastfeeds. That’s something only you can do. And up until recently, you’ve been physically incapacitated because of labor and all. So I was the one that can move around. I feel like if I can’t provide, then I lift right out of your lives.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you don’t! Oh, my God. Come here.” Careful not to disturb Carla, you perch on your knees and wrap your arm around Eren’s head, holding his face against your neck. You squeeze his outside shoulder with your other hand. “We’re going to figure this out, okay? We’re a team. You don’t have to carry all of this by yourself.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hear total resignation and acceptance in his voice as he says, “Okay.” You pull back to meet his eyes, keeping one hand on the back of his neck. “Just tell me what I need to do. I don’t know how to handle this,” he says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need you to do whatever you feel like is going to make you feel more secure, and is also going to keep us financially stable. You feel like you can’t go back to work?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren shakes his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay… I think we could make this work with you staying home full-time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes light up. “Really?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I mean, now that I’m making more money, we don’t necessarily need two incomes. I think we could make things work with just my salary. Especially if you’re going to be here with Carla while I’m working once I go back. It means we wouldn’t have to hire a nanny. I mean, I know I love my daughter so much, but I also love my job, and I know I want to keep working.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, that makes sense.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” A thought occurs. “Well, as long as you’re sure you wouldn’t feel weird.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About what?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you were saying that you felt like you needed to provide. So if you ended up being more of a caretaker and I was more of a breadwinner, I just want to know that you won’t feel weird.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Weird how?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You don’t even want to say the word. “Like… emasculated.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Eren shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Of course not. Are you kidding? I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> proud of you. You’re my superstar executive. As long as our family is functioning, I’m happy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, good.” You scratch the back of his neck and kiss his hair. “So, do you think you’re like, retired now? Or do you think you might go back to work eventually?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh… I don’t really know. Right now, I feel like I’m wanting to stay home at least until she starts going to school. But I don’t really know how I’m going to feel at that point.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, of course.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And…” He takes a hand off of Carla to point at your face as he looks into your eyes. “If there’s ever a financial issue, I will of course go back right away. We can play this by ear.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, of course.” You smile and grab onto his hand out of midair. “Please try not to worry, okay? We’re solid. We’re kicking ass as new parents.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren smiles and rolls his eyes. “I know, I know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Also</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you need to tell me these kinds of things before they pile up like this, alright? I don’t want you to keep these worries and doubts to yourself. We’re in this together. I mean…” You shrug. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me about this stuff. I don’t want you to spiral like that, okay? If something like that is ever bothering you, I want you to tell me right away so that we can deal with it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” He looks at you bashfully. “I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine.” You smile and kiss the back of his hand. “I forgive you. And I’m glad you at least told me now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren nods, gives you a faint smile, and kisses the back of your hand in turn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You cock your head at him. “What do you say we order up some pasta for dinner?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren smiles. “Yes, please.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i think that ordering pasta is going to be my trump card to end these oneshots whenever it's about eren having an emotional problem lol</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Sleep Soundly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Levi x gender-neutral Reader<br/>It's another late night and you're keeping Levi's company in his office while he fills out his paperwork. He tells you that you should go to bed, but you want to make sure that he's also getting the rest he deserves.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s getting late, and you’re still in Levi’s office waiting for him to finish his paperwork. You two have had a little bit of a thing going on for a couple months, mostly restricted to hookups since your militaristic lifestyle in the Survey Corps isn’t exactly conducive to the development of romantic relationships. You’re starting to catch feelings though, or at least you’re starting to feel closer to him as time goes on. After all, the reason you hooked up with him in the first place is because the two of you understand each other and have gotten along pretty well ever since you joined the Scouts years ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It used to be a common occurrence that you would hang out in Levi’s office with him while he finished paperwork just to keep his company back when you guys were just friends. You stopped doing that when you started hooking up, but recently you’ve started doing it again as the nature of your relationship has continued to evolve. It’s starting to resemble a friends-with-benefits type situation, but for your own part you know that there’s deeper feelings going in at least one direction. Even though you’ve known Levi for years, he can still be a bit hard to read at times. For now though, you’re content to just hang around while both of you are still alive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tonight, things are getting excessive, though. The sun set hours ago, and you’re starting to get dreadfully sleepy. You’ve just been sitting on a small sofa in Levi’s office, weaving string together to make bracelets for a while now, and you are absolutely ready to go the fuck to bed. You don’t want to abandon your post as Levi’s watchman, though, so you ask him, “How close are you to being done?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks up at you from behind his desk on the other side of the room. “Oh, um… Actually, I finished with today’s stuff a little bit ago. This is stuff I was going to do tomorrow. It’s just… I know I won’t sleep, so I might as well get it done.” Levi shakes his head. “You should go to bed, though. No sense in both of us staying up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I guess…” Reluctantly, you stand up and start to cross to the door. You stop partway there, because you have an idea and you’re too tired to think of being forward or embarrassed. “Why don’t you come with?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Levi looks up from his work again. “Huh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just… I always sleep better when I’m sharing a bed than when I sleep alone. And… I don’t know. I just feel like you should rest, too. It’s been a long day.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Levi looks a bit caught off-guard and just looks around as he considers your proposal. “Um… Yeah, I guess. If you think it’ll help you sleep, then sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, good.” You give him a small smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re already in your nightclothes, so you go into your dormitory bedroom and climb into bed to wait for Levi while he changes. You feel very vaguely nervous, but you’re much too sleepy to freak out, not to mention that you have shared a bed with Levi before. The circumstances had been different, though. For some reason, it feels much more intimate knowing that you’re going to sleep in the same bed without having sex first. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few minutes, your bedroom door creaks open and Levi enters wearing loose pajama pants and an old, starchy looking t-shirt. He looks very tired and kind of confused, but not necessarily sleepy. He wordlessly climbs into bed with you, and the two of you assume the familiar position you’ve fallen asleep in many times now. He puts one arm around your shoulders and you put both of yours around his waist and rest your head on his chest. Right away, the rhythmic sounds of his heartbeat and breathing are lulling you to sleep. Something about being wound up in another person’s arms makes you feel so safe and protected that none of your fears have a prayer of keeping you awake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But you can’t fall asleep quite yet, because a thought has just occurred to you. “Levi?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really don’t sleep much, do you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...No,” Levi says, his eyes staying closed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sigh and say nothing for a few seconds. “That’s not fair.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Levi breathes and readjusts his back to get more comfortable. “What do you mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… You’re always making sure that everyone’s healthy and safe and stuff. Like me, for example. You always tell me to go to bed when I’m staying up too late with you. Always making sure I’m getting enough sleep. Well, who’s making sure </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> getting enough sleep?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um…” Levi opens his eyes and then whispers, “No one. I don’t need it. I’m fine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you?” You sit up slightly to look in his face. “I mean, aren’t you tired? I’m worried about you. Do you feel okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh-” Levi shakes his head, then looks at you, his voice rising from a whisper into a quiet speaking tone. “Where is this coming from? Am I putting out a vibe or something?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You match his volume. “No. I just… I don’t know. I just feel like maybe you’re trying to be all strong and invincible all the time and take care of everyone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. So? Plenty of the others do that. Are you this worried about any of them?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, well, first of all: I’m worried about everyone, all the time. Second of all, no, because they’ve all got you trying to take care of them. Who’s taking care of you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, enough of this.” Levi shakes his head and breaks eye contact with you to face forward again. “I’m a grown-ass man. I don’t need other people to take care of me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Levi. Everyone needs someone to be taking care of them. It doesn’t matter how old you are… or how many Titans you’ve killed, or whatever. That doesn’t have anything to do with it. I just… I want you to sleep. I mean, is that crazy?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, that’s not crazy, but it’s not that simple. I also want me to be sleeping more, but I can’t. I’m lucky if I get three hours of sleep in a night, even if I lie down early enough to get eight. You know what? Yes. That’s crazy. It’s crazy, because it’s not going to happen.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, well, what can I do?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks at you again. “Pardon?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shrug. “What can I do to help you sleep more? Actually, you know what…” You shift out of your current position and up to where Levi is on your pillow. “Let’s switch.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. Switch?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I’ll be up here, and you come down here on my chest like I was just now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? What is this supposed to accomplish?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know! All I know is that I usually feel really safe when I’m being held and I fall asleep way faster than I usually do. And I know I don’t have chronic insomnia like you do, but this is all I’ve got.” You sigh and soften your voice. “Levi, would you just try it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He relents. “Okay, fine.” He shimmies downward into the covers and you wrap both your arms around his shoulders, using one hand to hold his head against your chest. He wraps both his arms around your waist and settles in, shutting his eyes. “Hm. Actually, this is pretty nice.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See? I told you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Levi makes happy little contented breathing sounds and drapes one of his legs over both of yours, snuggling his face into your chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smile down at him and start to run your fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As you do, Levi sighs deeply and his brows furrow. After a while, he starts to frown, then he blinks a few times. He presses his face into the fabric of your shirt for a moment and then goes back to where he was. There are now two little wet spots where his face just was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s crying. This has never happened before, at least not in front of you, and you’re not quite sure what you’re supposed to do. On the fly, you make the conscious decision not to acknowledge the situation verbally at this juncture, and instead just use your strong arms to pull him in tighter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, Levi starts to grimace, like it’s physically painful to him for tears to be leaving his eyes. He seems to give up. “Fuck,” he says, opening his eyes and rolling off of you but not entirely away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” you ask with your trademark extra-soft tone of voice, tilting your head to try to get him to look at you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He won’t look at you. “No. What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He wipes his face with the heel of his palm. “Why are you doing this to me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, me? I’m not doing anything!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you are. You’re being- fuck! I just…” Levi tries to take a deep breath before continuing, but it comes out all shaky. “I’m really not used to this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See, this is just what I was talking about. You need-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t tell me what I need.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I’m sorry. Can you just…” You hold the side of his face with one hand and turn his head to force him to look in your eyes. His face is red and puffy, and his cheeks are all wet. With your thumb, you brush one tear off of Levi’s cheekbone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This makes his bottom lip quiver. “And stop doing that!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you actually want me to stop?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” The word comes out all wavering and long as his chest starts to convulse with sobs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, come here.” You pull Levi back into your body and let him bury his face in your chest as the tears fall. Your shirt is getting all wet. You don’t particularly care. You put one hand on the back of Levi’s head to scratch at his undercut and wrap your other arm around his upper back, tracing along the edge of his shoulder blade with your thumb. You just let him cry it out. It feels like this has been building up for quite some time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a while, Levi’s breathing starts to steady, and he seems to awaken to the world once again. “Oh, fuck,” he says. “Shit. I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, don’t be sorry,” you say. “Do you feel better?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I do actually.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. That’s all I want.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks up at you, eyes still red but no longer watering. Then he looks away and says in a barely audible whisper, “Okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few seconds, you ask, “Are you feeling sleepy at all?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Very much so.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Just stay here then, alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Levi nods, snuggling in close to you and allowing you to continue holding him. Keeping one hand on his back and the other in his hair, you gently pet his head and feel his heart rate grow gradually slower and slower along with his breathing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he might just be pretending, as he often does. It isn’t until he starts twitching that you’re sure he really has, in fact, fallen asleep. Ordinarily, being in bed with a twitching person would probably cause you to not be able to sleep, but in this case, it’s the fastest doze that’s ever come over you. Levi, a man that always either can’t or won’t rest, is now completely relaxed and sleeping soundly in your arms. It’s like watching a cat sleep. Before long, you’re out like a light. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i sure am publishing a lot of one shots right now lol. there's probably going to be another one before long as well</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Night Terrors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eren x gender-neutral Reader<br/>Sharing a bed with Eren means that you wake up whenever he has a bad dream.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You pride yourself on being very in tune with peoples’ needs and emotions, and no one in the Survey Corps gets to benefit from that more than Eren does. It’s been a few months since the two of you started sleeping in the same bed, and at this point you’ve developed a sixth sense about his moods that is always activated, even when you’re asleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t always this way. One of the first nights that you slept in the same bed as him was very tumultuous for the both of you. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You were awoken by a swift kick in your side. You almost fell out of bed, but jolted upright and looked around yourself quickly to see what was the matter. It was still entirely pitch-black in your bedroom, but your senses, heightened by adrenaline, told you that there was no one else there in the room. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No one other than Eren, of course. It seemed that he was the source of the disturbance, based on the way he was thrashing in bed next to you. You reached to your bedside table and turned on the gas lamp just high enough that you could see immediately around you. Eren was drenched in sweat, causing his hair to stick to his forehead, but his skin was clammy rather than hot. He was breathing so heavily that you’d think he was running a sprint. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And he might have been running a sprint, at least in his head. He was still totally unconscious despite his erratic movements, and the way that his face kept twisting up in expressions of rage, fear, and anguish. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You didn’t know what was happening, but you thought that it was in your best interest to interrupt it. “Eren,” you said softly. When he didn’t change, you said his name louder and put a hand on his shoulder. Still nothing. Finally, you said more loudly, “Eren, wake up!” and shook him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>At this, his eyes flew open and he reflexively shoved you off the bed and onto the floor with one arm. You hit the ground on your back making a sound like a dropped bag of flour and groaned. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh, fuck. Oh no.” Eren got up out of bed and flew down to the floor to crouch beside you. “Oh God. (Y/n), are you okay?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You rubbed your forehead with the heel of your palm. “Fuck. Yeah, I’m okay. Just a bit startled.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” He pulled you up to a seated position by your shoulders. “Are you sure you’re okay? I’m so sorry.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, I’m fine. Are </span>
  </em>
  <span>you </span>
  <em>
    <span>okay? You looked like you were having a seizure.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eren’s hands on your shoulders were trembling. “I was just… It was just a bad dream. I thought… I was in the forest with you, and there were all of these super tall trees. But- but then the trees were Titans, and you weren’t next to me anymore, and one of them had you and you were screaming. You were screaming my name, and then I was wearing ODM gear, but when I tried to use it, it just turned to dust. And I tried to bite my hand but my teeth were falling out and I couldn’t… I couldn’t save you, and my feet were sinking into the ground, and…” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>At that point, he was shaking like a leaf and looked like he was about to burst into tears, so you cut him off: “Hey, hey. It’s okay. It wasn’t real. You’re safe.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a big bear hug, putting one hand on the back of his head to hold his face against your neck. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He started to calm down pretty quickly, his arms growing steady and his breathing slowing. “</span>
  </em>
  <span>You’re</span>
  <em>
    <span> safe,” he said softly into your ear. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It hasn’t been instantaneous, but over time you’ve unintentionally trained yourself to know when Eren’s having a night terror, even if you’re deep asleep. Which is why, now, you’ve awoken with a start, before you’re even sure what it is that woke you up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But you figure it out before long. This is a fairly common routine, and by the light of the full moon in the window you can see Eren’s face starting to twitch when you lift your head off of his chest. In about five minutes, he’ll start thrashing around like he’s being strangled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it’s not going to get that far. You put one hand at the crook of his neck and look in his face as you say, “Eren. Eren, wake up,” and very gently squeeze. He shakes his head loosely, his brows furrowing. “Eren, wake up. Come on.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opens his eyes with a gasp. His eyes dart around looking for predators, then fall on you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hold the side of Eren’s face with one hand. “It’s okay. I’m here. Everything’s fine; it was just a bad dream.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren doesn’t say anything; he just nods and blinks slowly, trying to slow his breathing. You watch the aggression and fear gradually drain from his face as you gently feel his cheek with your thumb. You also put your opposite hand at the center of his chest and apply a bit of pressure-- it’s been very effective in the past at reducing his anxiety. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before long, Eren has relaxed once again, and when he opens his eyes again you can see just how exhausted, frustrated, and defeated he feels. Recently, this has been happening as often as three times each week. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you feel okay?” you whisper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren swallows and nods, then without looking at you he wraps both of his arms and both of his legs around you, pulling you in tight so that the side of your face presses into his chest. This is how he’ll stay for a while. You’re not uncomfortable necessarily, but you can’t sleep like this. When Eren falls asleep his grip on you will relax though, and really, you wouldn’t want to fall back asleep until he has anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry I always wake you up,” Eren whispers. “I don’t mean to. I just… I feel terrible.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shake your head, then put your hands on his chest to push yourself away a few inches-- just far enough that you can look at his face. “I don’t mind, Eren. Really, I don’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren just nods. He won’t look at you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” You move one of your hands to his face and force him to look you in the eyes. “Listen to me. I don’t care if you wake me up. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> you to wake me up. If you feel like that in the middle of the night, I’d rather be awake. I love you, and I want to help you. Okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren’s eyes shift away from you momentarily, then he says, “Okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You kiss him softly, then pull away to smile at him. It’s not lost on you that he doesn’t smile back before he pulls you tightly against his chest again and whispers, “I love you too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not just Eren’s hold on you that keeps you awake. It’s also the deep sense of foreboding that you feel about him, and it grows with each passing day. After twenty minutes or so, Eren drifts off, and you’re able to shift your body enough to finally try to fall back asleep. Before you shut your eyes again, you take a few moments to look at his face, sweetly relaxed in sleep. He’s slipping. He grows more afraid, jaded, and impulsive all the time, and you’re doing everything you can to keep him tethered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As you fall asleep that night, you pray that Eren doesn’t slip away from you. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>oof this ended on kindof a dark note lol. i think i have one more prompt i'll crank out in the next couple days. and as always if you have any requests or headcanons you'd like me to play with please drop them in the comments and i will jump on them immediately &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. A Soft Place to Land</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Levi x Female Reader<br/>You clean things up and arrange yourself and your daughter to be ready for when Levi gets back from an expedition with the Survey Corps.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You walk to the other side of your bedroom and light an evergreen scented candle. Things in here are all cleaned up, since you’ve been straightening and sanitizing for the past hour. Everything needs to be just so-- Levi is coming back today. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s been gone for just three days on an expedition. Ordinarily, you would be going as well, but this time around, there were some extenuating circumstances. You’re a bit physically incapacitated right now because you just gave birth under a month ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So you didn’t go on the expedition. This has resulted in some complicated, uncomfortable feelings for a number of reasons. First and foremost, your husband and the father of your child is elsewhere fighting Titans, and the probability of him dying in doing so is not zero. Though he is much more difficult to destroy than the average member of the Scout Regiment, Humanity’s Strongest Soldier is not immortal. Second, Levi has to tear himself away from you and little Isabel while you’re still recovering from labor. The stress from the impending separation made Levi incredibly unpleasant to his underlings for several days preceding the expedition. As if those kids weren’t afraid enough of him already. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it has now been three days since he left, and so he is coming back today. If everything goes according to plan, he should get back sometime in the afternoon. Of course, things very rarely go according to plan, but since you have no control over what happens while the rest of the Scouts are outside of the walls, all you can do is assume that Levi will return on time and in one piece. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In so assuming, this day is all about cultivating a safe, warm, welcoming environment for when Levi gets back. Your bedroom will be spotless and soft, you and your daughter will both be freshly bathed, and you will be a welcoming, soothing presence. You know what it’s like getting back from an expedition with casualties hovering over your head, so you know that what Levi needs when he gets back is his wife and daughter in perfect condition, ready to love and comfort him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As you adjust the covers of your bedspread, you hear your daughter start to fuss in her crib. “Ohh, is someone awake from her nap?” You walk over and see her wriggling around, swaddled up in a white blanket and staring at you with beautiful, wide, blue eyes. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>tut-tut-tut</span>
  </em>
  <span> at her as you pick her up. Isabel’s eyes naturally train on you the way an infant’s does to that of their mother, or really to that of any person that enters their field of vision. You put her down on the changing table and take great pleasure as you undo her swaddle and she happily stretches her fat little baby arms above her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While you’re changing her diaper, you hear commotion in the hallways outside of your bedroom. You feel in your bones that the Scouts have returned from their expedition and have therefore caused a stir with the other soldiers that remained back at base. Your breath hitches and you hurriedly finish changing your daughter. “We don’t want to be stinky for Daddy, now do we?” Rather than go out and meet him in front of the building, you decide it would be best to let him come to you and reunite in private. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You change Isabel into fresh clothes and sit down on your bed with her in your lap leant against your torso. Your body has grown soft and stretchy because of the pregnancy and isn’t springing back into place in a hurry. Your breasts are swollen and pillowy from producing milk, your belly is soft and riddled with stretch marks over stretched-out skin, and your hips and thighs have been fundamentally altered down to their bone structure. Motherhood has caused your body to change in ways that make you more suited to domestic life, or that are making you that way temporarily until you get back into your regular training schedule with the Scouts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isabel coos and you stop watching the door for a moment to look at her. Her chubby cheeks mush into a very sweet smile upon training your attention. You smile back at her and whisper, “Any second now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, within the minute, a very soft knock sounds at the door. You laugh to yourself and stand, holding Isabel against your chest. “Come in.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door eases open as you say, “You didn’t need to knock.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Levi walks through the door, carrying in with him a cloud of awful, pained energy and total exhaustion. The cape and jacket that go with his uniform have been removed and are immediately discarded on the floor, and the 3DMG straps that go around his torso have been undone and dangle around his legs. He’s a mess, and there are dried blood stains on his clothes and on his skin, but he’s in one piece. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re okay,” you say breathlessly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” Levi unzips and kicks off his boots, then finally looks at you. His eyes are somewhere between dying and dead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” you whisper, then put Isabel down gently onto the bed on her back. Levi is frozen zombie-like just in front of the doorway, so you go to him and wrap both your arms around him so that you can hold him close to you. In particular, you bury one hand in his hair to hold his head against your shoulder and whisper in his ear, “You’re okay,” this time like you’re trying to convince </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> of that idea, rather than yourself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Levi says softly. Not particularly in the mood to talk, it seems. Reasonable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, come on.” You lead him to sit down on the bed, placing yourself between him and baby Isabel. Levi keeps his eyes trained firmly on yours like he’s looking for something within them, or like they tether him to the Earth and he would float away if he stopped looking, but he doesn’t really make any moves to touch you. You keep one arm around his shoulders and run your opposite hand back and forth across his chest. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> okay,” you repeat. “And I want to hear about it, but it doesn’t need to be now. Actually, you don’t even have to talk about it at all if you don’t want to. I can hear from anyone and everyone else. Okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Levi’s hands are trained against his thighs, his fingernails digging into his palms. “Not now. Not today.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” You sigh deeply. “My God. I’m so glad you’re okay.” You take your hand off of his chest so that you can hold the side of his face as you kiss him. Your lips pluck away from his and you lean your foreheads into each other as you scratch at the scruff on his cheek with your fingertips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isabel starts to fuss on your other side and you and Levi both turn your heads in her direction. “Aw, come here, little monster,” you coo to her as you pick her up and cradle her in your lap. “She just got up from a nap a little bit ago.” Levi’s head hangs a bit as he focuses on his newborn daughter. “You want her?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods, and you delicately transfer her into his arms, then put one hand on each of his shoulders and lean your head into the crook of his neck. Levi starts to gently trace Isabel’s cheek with the back of his index finger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few seconds, Isabel whimpers, and then starts to wail. Levi furrows his brows and tries to bounce her a bit to soothe her, but it doesn’t work. She kicks her little legs and beats her little arms up and down. “She doesn’t want me.” Levi hands her back to you. “She wants her mom.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You accept her, holding her against your chest, and she calms down pretty quickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She forgot me,” Levi says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? No she didn’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, she did. I’ve heard about this. Babies aren’t great at remembering things, so if someone… other than the mother, of course… is around, but then leaves for a while? Baby forgets. Even if it’s the father.” He pauses and bites his lip. “So that includes me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hold Isabel against you with one arm and put your opposite hand on Levi’s knee. “Baby, this isn’t a big deal. I’m sure that by tomorrow she’ll be just as attached to you as she was before you left. She’s Daddy’s little girl, right?” You smile sadly and tilt your head at Levi, trying to catch his eye. He won’t look at you anymore. Now that Isabel has settled, you get up to put her down in her crib for the time being. Someone else needs your attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sit back down next to Levi, placing one hand on the back of his neck to scratch at his undercut and the other on his thigh. Levi still doesn’t make any moves to grab you, preferring in this moment to be held rather than to hold. “Fucking worthless piece of shit,” he grumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t…” Levi shuts his eyes. “So many fucking people died. Way too fucking many. Why am I the one that gets to live? I mean…” He sighs and opens his eyes. “I go because I’m trying to help Erwin with his shit. I’m trying to… be good. But time and time again, I fucking fail, and now nothing I do seems to matter in the slightest because at the end of it, when I get home, my daughter forgets who I am and cries when I try to hold her.” Levi shrugs. “I mean, what would it even matter if I just didn’t come back?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You don’t give him a chance to go on. “Excuse me?” You pull on Levi’s ear and he grimaces. “Don’t you ever fucking say that again. What would it matter? What about </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” You grab Levi’s face in both hands and force him to meet your eyes. “If one of these days you get taken out, my whole world stops turning. And…” You scoff. “Isabel is a newborn. She doesn’t know what the hell is going on, and she has no idea how much she needs you because her brain isn’t fully formed yet.” Levi tries to avert his eyes. “Hey. No. Look at me.” He does. “I know it’s a bad day. But you need to get that. Do you understand?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I understand.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Good.” You lean back into the wall your bed is pushed up against, wrapping your arms around Levi’s torso such that his back leans into your front. You rest your chin on top of his head and continue: “Look, your brain is just programmed to focus on negatives. You’re missing all of the good things that are happening. That you’re doing. And I know that most of the time… the negatives outweigh the positives, but that doesn’t mean that the positives aren’t there. And I know you’re sick of hearing this, but you’re the best that anybody’s got.” You sigh. “Humanity’s strongest.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> sick of it. It’s too much. The only reason in the whole fucking world I keep going at this point is because… if I don’t, then everyone that’s died </span>
  <em>
    <span>so far</span>
  </em>
  <span> died for nothing. But then, I keep getting myself in situations where more people die because I couldn’t save them, and it just piles up, and I’m trapped.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” You run your hand up and down Levi’s arm. “But… I think that’s as good a reason as any to keep going. I know it doesn’t feel great, but… You’re doing good things. And I know you feel trapped by it, but I also think that you’d still be pushing to do more and be stronger even if you didn’t have all of that hanging over your head. You want peoples’ lives to improve. This is just… The hard version of your life. And in another life, you’re doing the same kind of things, even without the threat of letting down everyone you’ve lost.” You sigh. “I don’t know. That’s just how I think of you in all this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Levi hesitates, breathing softly. “I don’t deserve all of that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you do.” You kiss the top of his head. “I’ll just believe it for you until you believe it too.” You hold Levi tighter against you, leaning your cheek into the top of his head. “I’ve got you now. It’s all going to be okay.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Acts of Service</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jean x Gender-neutral Reader<br/>You haven't heard from Jean in a few days, so you go over to his apartment to see what's the matter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You haven’t heard from Jean in a few days. This is considerably out of the ordinary. The two of you were the best of friends in high school and college, and now you live in the same town. You’ve followed each other around for most of your lives, and at this point in your relationship, it’s a strange day that the two of you don’t see each other, call each other, or text each other. It’s been </span>
  <em>
    <span>several</span>
  </em>
  <span> days. This is cause for concern. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not that you haven’t tried to contact him. After not hearing from him for a full day, the next day you had woken up and tried to text him. No response. The following day, yesterday, you tried to call him. He didn’t pick up. And now you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Part of you is worried that this is due to the change in your relationship that’s been coming about for the past month or so. You went out drinking one night-- nothing out of the ordinary-- and something changed. You were at a bar for a while, just the two of you, and at one point you asked Jean to watch your drink and stepped away for a moment to use the bathroom. When you came back, you saw from across the bar that Jean was in a heated argument with some strange man that you hadn’t seen before. From across the bar, you watched as the man pointed his finger in Jean’s face and got way too close to him. Jean shoved him away hard. At that, you rushed over to him as someone who was presumably one of the man’s friends held him back when he tried to take a swing at Jean. You grabbed Jean’s arm and asked, “What’s going on?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re leaving,” he said, gave cash to the bartender, put an arm around your shoulders, and got the two of you the hell out of there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You tried to get out of him what went down with that guy and who he was. All Jean would say was that he didn’t know the guy, but that he was “acting like a prick.” All your requests for further details were denied. The two of you went back to his apartment to just cool down, hang out, and keep drinking. For a while, you forgot about what was almost a bar fight, until around two in the morning while you were sitting on his couch watching an old Disney movie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His arm was around you and you were leaning your head into his chest-- you two have always been big on platonic cuddling-- when you quietly asked, “What was it with that guy? Why don’t you want to tell me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean shook his head. “It’s not a big deal. Doesn’t matter.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it doesn’t matter, then tell me.” You dropped your nagging tone. “Just tell me. It’s okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean sighed, glanced at you, then explained as he kept his eyes on the television: “While you were in the bathroom, I was ordering another drink. I… faced away from your drink for a second to flag down the bartender, and when I turned back around, I saw someone’s hand moving away from your drink. I looked in the glass and there was this little pill in it that was already starting to dissolve. So the guy walking away from it… I went after him, I guess. I sort of lost it. I was yelling and attracting attention, and he got really upset at me that I’d caught him, and then… yeah. Then you were back. That pretty much brings you up to speed.” Jean ran a hand through his hair, starting to bounce his leg nervously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh-... Why wouldn’t you want to tell me that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know!” Jean said exasperatedly. “Because it sucked! You almost got roofied or some shit because I was being careless, and then I lost my shit on some stranger in public. And I… I don’t know. I didn’t want you to start feeling unsafe around me. Like I can’t take care of you. I don’t know.” He took his arm away from your shoulders and tilted his head away from you. “It’s stupid. I should have just said. I don’t know. I guess I was just embarrassed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You scoffed. “Can’t take care of me? The fuck are you talking about? You almost got into a fistfight with a stranger in a bar… defending my honor.” You finished your sentence with a laugh. “And not to mention, you totally caught him. Just because you didn’t prevent that guy putting stuff in my drink doesn’t mean you didn’t keep me from consuming it. It’s all the same, really. Besides…” You shrugged. “Everything’s fine now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… Just not my finest moment, I guess.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way, dude. It was super cool.” You pinched his cheek playfully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he met your eyes before you took your fingers away, so your hand just kind of stayed there, gently holding the side of his face. Your finger scratched lightly at the subtle stubble on his cheek. You were both drunk, and you kissed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first it was sweet and delicate, but then it got deeper. Kissing turned into full making out, making out turned into hand stuff, and hand stuff turned into sex. And just like that, your relationship was fundamentally altered in one fell swoop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The weirdest part of the whole thing was how tremendously un-weird it all felt. Ordinarily, you’d think that suddenly starting to hook up with your best friend would be kind of strange, or at least be a bit uncomfortable the next day. But it wasn’t, really. It felt more like you’d been doing this all along. Really, you can’t believe you guys </span>
  <em>
    <span>haven’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> been doing this all along. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, things have been hovering in the best-friends-with-benefits area for almost a month now. Essentially, you’re acting exactly like you’ve been since high school-- joined at the hip and emotionally closer than two biscuits in a tin-- but you’ve added sex and kissing. So far, it’s working. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there’s something in the back of your head gnawing away at you: </span>
  <em>
    <span>What are we?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Eventually, you’re going to have to actually talk things out, establish vernacular and boundaries, all that good stuff. The fact that you haven’t done so yet and that the conversation is impending has been a major source of stress for you. You can’t stop thinking about Jean and what all of this means for the two of you. The word ‘endgame’ has crossed your mind. You will not be saying that word out loud any time soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, Jean not contacting you for three days is strange, and you’re incredibly concerned that he’s cutting you off. It wouldn’t be like him to do that, but generally speaking, guys tend to be flighty, and are especially prone to flightiness when there’s the scent of commitment floating around in the air. Before all of this, if you didn’t hear from him for a few days, you would call him repeatedly until he picked up the phone, or else just go straight to his apartment and interrupt him in person. You’ve done it before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean sometimes gets into “moods” as he calls them. A better term would probably be “depressive episodes.” It’s not all the time. He’s perfectly functional and pleasant most of the time, but when he goes down, he hits the ground hard. These moods come on the way one falls asleep-- slowly, then all at once. At first, it’s things that are easy to miss-- eating a little worse, neglecting a couple household chores, or seeming a little more fatigued than normal. After that, though, things get very destructive. He holes up in his apartment (or dorm, or bedroom as the case has been in the past), stops showering, eats any nonperishable snacks available (or orders fast food, or just doesn’t eat at all that time), either sleeps way too much or not nearly enough, and just generally disintegrates and turns his home into a nest of trash and dirty laundry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean doesn’t “do” therapy and doesn’t trust mood-altering prescriptions, so ever since he moved out and the two of you went to college together, you have been the one that’s around to get him back on track whenever this happens. It was pretty difficult the first time because you didn’t know how to proceed and you didn’t want to overstep your boundaries, and it certainly wasn’t helpful that depressed people tend to resist help. But once you figured things out, you were a very good friend for him to have around. Of course, just being nice to someone doesn’t make a depressive episode go away. What it does do is keep them, or keep Jean specifically, from completely self-destructing until the storm passes, and since Jean doesn’t fuck with therapy or drugs, that’s all that there is to be done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yes, you’ve tried many times to get him to go to a psychiatrist. It’s caused a few big fights. He just won’t do it, and you can’t exactly force him. So this is what you do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is what you </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> be doing now. You know that. It’s just hard to work up the nerve. Intervening during an episode is a lifelong-best-friend thing, not a person-you’ve-been-sleeping-with-for-less-than-a-month thing. But you’re both. So which role should you occupy? You’ve been pondering that your entire car ride home from work. You’re just now pulling into the parking garage of your apartment building, and now, it’s time to get out of the car. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But you’re thinking about Jean and the fact that you haven’t heard a damn thing from him in three days. Three days! That’s too many days. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You decide that this is all just so stupid. Whether he’s in a mood or trying to blow you off, three days is too long not to hear from someone. If he doesn’t want to hook up anymore, he’s going to have to say it to your face, and otherwise, this is going to be nothing you haven’t seen before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goddamn it,” you whisper to yourself, then turn your car back on to drive to Jean’s building. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you get there, it’s no trouble getting up to and into Jean’s apartment, since you know the code to get into the building and you of course have a spare key to his place on your keyring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But you knock first just to be safe. No answer. You knock again. Nothing, and so you use that spare key to get in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean lives alone in a one-bedroom. When you walk through the door, all of the lights are off, but since there’s light pushing through the closed curtains on the opposite side of the apartment, you can still see that the place has seen better days. Three days isn’t a very long time in terms of how long it takes for a mess to build up, but the kitchen is in an obvious state of disrepair. There’s stuff out all over the counters-- things like family-sized chip bags left open with no chip clip and disposable plastic water and soda bottles. In the living room, there’s plenty of fast food wrappers in haphazard little piles on the coffee table and sofa. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You call into the apartment: “Jean? It’s (y/n). Are you here?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hear nonspecific stirring in the bathroom, then: “In here. Taking a bath.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s odd. “You’re taking a bath?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Kind of.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You furrow your brows. “What does that mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m… wearing pants.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You whisper to yourself, “What?” and then say louder as you walk up to the bathroom: “Are you alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chillin’.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, um…” You lightly tap your knuckle on the bathroom door, even though he already knows you’re there. “Can I come in?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...If you want.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I’m coming in.” You slide the door open, and sure enough, there’s Jean in a half-full bathtub with the lights off wearing pants but no shirt. “Hey.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he says, looking ahead, and not at you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not feeling good?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” You go to kneel down beside the bathtub. “Hi.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean finally looks at you, and sure enough, his eyes are jarringly dead. “Hi.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You put one finger into the water, then shake your hand dry as you say, “It’s cold.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean nods slowly, facing forward again. “It was hot when I got in, and now it’s cold.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your skin is probably pruney as hell.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You reach out and touch his hair. Greasy, but dry. “You didn’t get your head wet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm-mm,” Jean shakes his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You pucker your lips to the side, then say, “You want me to wash your hair?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean looks at you again and shrugs. “Sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You lean Jean’s head forward and use your hands to scoop up water from the bath and get his hair nice and soaked. You stand to get the bottle of shampoo from the shower shelf, squirt some into your hands, then start to work the soap through Jean’s hair down to the roots, gently massaging his scalp as you go. He closes his eyes and releases the tension in his shoulders as you work. When it’s time to rinse out the shampoo, you lean him back so that you can submerge the back of his head. You run your fingers through his hair under the water to get all the soap out, and carefully lift handfuls of water to get the shampoo out of and away from his hairline. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hair was pretty gross, so you repeat the process once for good measure, and then work in some leave-in conditioner with a comb, very gently working out the tangles in the longer parts of his haircut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Voila. You are clean.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Jean gives you a little smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be right back.” You leave momentarily and go into Jean’s bedroom to find clean clothes. You manage to procure a set of boxers, some sweatpants and a t-shirt. You go back into the bathroom and place the bundle on a dry part next to the sink. “I think it’s time for you to get out and dry off. Whenever you’re ready. I’m just going to leave these here, yeah?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. I’ll leave you to it.” You exit the bathroom and shut the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>First, you get a trash bag from the kitchen and clean things up. In terms of the open snacks in the kitchen, you taste-test each one to see if the contents are stale. If they’re still good, you seal them shut with a piece of scotch tape, and if they’re stale, you toss them in your trash bag. Any plastic bottles and fast food wrappers around the place get discarded. You repeat this trash collecting process in the bedroom, then tie up the trash bag and leave it in the kitchen for you to take out later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next, you gather up any dirty clothes in a laundry basket. Most of them are in his bedroom. Once you’ve got everything, you carry the laundry and the full trash bag out of the apartment and bring them downstairs. You put the laundry in one of the available machines and start it, then take the trash bag outside and throw it into the dumpster. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you get back up to the apartment, Jean still isn’t out and about, but you’ve still got stuff to do. There are dirty dishes that need to be rinsed and put in the dishwasher, blankets in the living room that need to be folded, blinds there and in the bedroom that need to be opened, and a bed that needs to be made. You also open a window to air the place out. After all that’s done, you look in the refrigerator for some more healthy food. There’s not much. In the freezer, though, you find a bag of purple grapes, put in there to freeze. You smile. Jean loves frozen grapes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You get a bowl out of the cabinet and start plucking frozen grapes off the vine. While you’re doing so, Jean finally comes out of the bathroom dressed in the sweats you set out for him. He looks around, observing the considerable change that has taken place in his apartment since he went in to take a bath. “It’s better out here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smile. “Good.” You deem your quantity of grapes to be adequate and put the bag back in the freezer. You pick up the bowl and deliver it to Jean. He takes it, and you wave your hands at the couch saying, “Sit down, sit down.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He does. You go back to the kitchen to get two glasses of water, then join him on the couch. You hand him one of the glasses. “Drink up.” You take a swig yourself then set your glass down on the coffee table. Jean follows suit and then starts to eat the frozen grapes. “Nice,” he says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You chuckle lightly and pop a grape into your mouth. “I know, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Jean says hesitantly, not quite looking at you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” You wrap your arms around his middle and lean your head into his shoulder. “Don’t mention it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m serious. I… really appreciate it when you do this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that.” You look up at him. “And I appreciate that you let me do it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean laughs quietly through his nose. “Sure.” He looks down at you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You tilt your head up and give him a sweet little kiss on the mouth. You look in each others’ eyes for a moment, then you’re struck with a wild impulse to cover his face in kisses and decide not to fight it. Cheek, cheekbone, nose, eyebrow, eyelid, nose, forehead, temple, cheek, jaw. This is extremely uncouth behavior. Your relationship has included the kinds of things best friends do and the kind of thing casual lovers do. Sweet face kisses-- the stuff of steady lovers--  have not been on the menu until now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few seconds into the flurry of kisses and Jean starts to laugh in spite of himself. When you’re satisfied, you stop, and go back to leaning your head into Jean’s shoulder as he keeps eating from the bowl of frozen grapes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s no reason to stress about this thing with Jean. The two of you will figure things out, just like you always do. Until then, it’s perfectly acceptable to just do what you feel. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>first ever jean thing lol. i just love him so i decided to give him some special attention. i am pretty sure everything in here is gender-neutral but if i screwed up please let me know so that i can correct it.<br/>as always, remember that if you have any requests-- prompts, headcanons, or new characters you'd like me to explore-- drop them in the comments and i will give them a try!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Heartbeat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Request: “If this could be interesting for you, could you maybe write a Jean x reader in a established relationship where somehow Jean is a titan shifter (he didn't know, he is not from marley) and idk he discovers it during a mission when he saves the reader? and things roll from there?”<br/>Jean x Gender-neutral Reader, in which Jean is the Attack Titan instead of Eren.<br/>The 75th Expedition Outside of the Walls goes awry when your squadron is intercepted by an abnormal Titan that has decimated the squads ahead of you.<br/>TW: Some graphic description of gore.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Let the Fifty-Seventh Expedition Outside the Walls commence!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice of Commander Erwin booms over the crowd of Scouts among which you disappear as the gates open. Despite being a part of a squadron positioned relatively close to the edge of the Commander’s formation, the layers of your uniform seem to insulate your courage, keeping it close to your skin as you bring your horse to a gallop, keeping pace with that of the soldiers around you. For you and every other graduate of the 104th Cadet Corps, this is the first expedition outside of the walls you have both the pleasure and horror of participating in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You pass through the walls, ensconced in a tight formation with your fellow soldiers. The shadows of the gate fall behind you and you look to the sky. Without the walls up against it to cut it off at the knees, the vast expanse of blue seems to go on further than you imagine anything ever could. The land, too, seems to stretch out forever and promises a bold, savage kind of salvation that makes the hairs on your arms stand up beneath your jacket. You understand now why Armin was so anxious to get past the walls, and why his parents were before him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Having grown up within Wall Rose, you never really imagined a world outside of the walls before you joined the military. After all, there’s no sense in dreaming about something that you’ll never see. But when the news reached your village of the fall of Wall Maria, you panicked. That’s the only way to describe it. Suddenly, your life wasn’t a given. Though your family was well-off enough to have access to food and comfort, you suddenly felt that nothing was a certainty. Suddenly, there was nothing standing between the Titans and you and your family. It scared the shit out of you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You thought about it for quite some time, but you eventually landed on enlisting in the military, in the hopes of being able to get into the Military Police. It was a blind gamble to save your own life, but one that actually seemed to have a decent chance of panning out. At the time that you enlisted, you felt that you were very strong, had high endurance, and were of above-average intelligence, and you ended up coming in twelfth place in the rankings at graduation. So close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that you were still even considering the MPs by the time graduation rolled around. The attack on Trost District was a serious wakeup call. The futility of trying to run from the Titans hit you like a freight train, and you realized that the only way to guarantee your safety and that of your family’s in the long run was to aid in the fight against them. If this was not done, it would only be a matter of time until even the interior of Wall Sina was not safe. You, of course, were not the only one that picked up on that idea after Trost. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you and Jean met at the beginning of those three years in training, you found an instant kinship with each other. Though you’d come from slightly different places, you’d had the exact same motivation-- that is, to save your own asses. Your ideals at the time were actually remarkably similar, and since you were both thrown into a situation where you knew nothing and no one, you found solace in each other from the get-go, and stuck to each other like velcro through the course of training. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If there was one distinct difference between you and Jean back then, it was that you were a lot easier for everyone else to swallow than he was. To put in bluntly, Jean was a little bit of a jerk who thought he was better than everyone else, especially in the beginning. Even though you felt largely the same sense of superiority about yourself, you at least had the good sense to keep your elitism under wraps. After all, getting on the bad side of all of your fellow trainees would not do anything good, and you really did want to make friends with everyone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean was not the only jerk that thought he was better than everyone, of course. In a military troupe of teenagers, those personalities are a dime a dozen. And even if they hadn’t been, you still wouldn’t have held it against him, and you never did, though you did tend to try to steer him back to safety when he started getting particularly irritable. With this kind of acceptance and gentle guidance, Jean eventually started letting his guard down around you, and before you knew it, you were each the person that the other trusted the most in the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is not to say that it was just the two of you against the world. No, it was the three of you: you, Jean, and Marco. The three of you were a power trio that did everything together. Additionally, it was really nice having Marco around because he also had a sort of calm, centered wisdom that both you and Jean really benefited from. Even though you never really got into hissy fits like Jean did, you sure did tend to doubt yourself like he did, and sometimes could get pretty moody. Marco was very good at handling both of you under these circumstances, and you came to really rely on him as well. And of course, when Jean did get into scrapes, it was always nice to have someone to tag team with to reel him back in. Yes, it was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>three</span>
  </em>
  <span> of you against the world-- engineers do say that a triangle is the strongest shape in construction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conversely, it’s devastating when one of those three sides is wrenched free and cast away. That’s why everything changed for you and Jean after the attack on Trost District. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re never going to forget the feeling in your chest when Jean found you after the battle was over. Everyone was still regrouping and the city was just starting to account for damage and casualties, so at first you were just elated that he hadn’t been killed. It wasn’t that you thought he had been, it was that you knew he could have been, and you’d really wanted to eliminate it as a possibility. Yes, those three seconds right after you caught sight of Jean were true bliss. Then, you saw a look in his eyes that spelled disaster, and you knew that something unspeakable had happened. Even though he was looking right at you, he was so shell-shocked that it didn’t feel like he was actually seeing you. He looked right through you when he told you, in the softest voice he’d ever spoken in, that Marco had been killed during battle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There could have been two possible outcomes to this. You and Jean could have withdrawn from each other, terrified by the silence Marco left behind, and taken a saw to the branch you were sitting on; the only really close relationship either of you still had by that point. Or, you could have chosen to lean on each other, and heal. Every day since then, you’ve been grateful that you mutually chose the latter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re actually not sure when you had your first kiss. It didn’t seem important. The important change in your relationship with Jean occurred after Marco’s death. It seemed that the event forced you to acknowledge that you each felt like the other was all you had. Before, disasters and deaths were all hypothetical because you were both striving to be MPs. But after Trost, you were staring those hypotheticals in the face, acknowledging that even those ghosts of the future have the power to destroy you. If you or Jean were stronger or more independent people, you might have started to isolate from each other, trying to protect yourself from being hurt again. Instead, you gave into the love and comfort you found with each other, and now as a couple are greater than the sum of your parts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So now, going outside of the walls for the first time, a big part of the safety you feel is being on the same squad as Jean. It’s a good thing that nobody really knows that the two of you are romantically involved with each other, because if Commander Erwin knew, you most certainly would not have been put in the same squad. You and Jean have always been close friends, so since any evidence of your entanglement tends to happen behind closed doors, nobody noticed when it started. There’s been a lot going on ever since Trost, so subtle changes in the dynamic between two best friends are the least of anyone’s worries. After a while, you both decided that perhaps it would be easier not to tell anyone. Neither of you wanted to deal with weirdness from your fellow soldiers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now out in the open fields outside of the walls, the Scouts’ formation has inflated to the appropriate size that it will stay for the rest of the expedition. The entire purpose of this excursion is to get the new recruits used to the formation and test things out with them. It’s supposed to be quick-- out and back in just a few hours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You have to focus. There’s no time right now to think about the emotional significance of this event-- you’ll have to do that later, once everyone is safe back at base. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look! Black smoke!” Armin shouts from several yards to your left. You look to see where he’s pointing-- to your right, towards the outside of the formation, is a clear streak of black smoke bisecting the sky into two parts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They must have spotted an abnormal.” Reiner says from behind you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which means we need to be on the lookout for a direction change,” Jean says from your right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” you confirm with a nod. Sure enough, just a few seconds later, a green signal flare indicates a turn to the left. You feel your heart rate start to pick up in earnest as the four of you curve the paths of your horses in unison. As you turn, you stare at the black smoke to your right, now starting to dissipate. Even though you yourself have not seen the Titan yet, you know that it’s there, and you know that it’s on your side of the formation. Once again, hypotheticals are becoming realities. You don’t want to think of any disasters like that of Trost that may befall you this time around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As you’re staring at that piece of sky to your right, another black signal flare goes off in your field of vision, this time much closer. “Guys! On your right!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three boys look to see the signal. “Shit!” Jean shouts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We just keep going,” Reiner says. “We can’t break formation.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They might need help over there,” Armin says. “If it’s this far inside the formation now, we can only assume that the squadrons on the edge have all been wiped out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. We can’t break formation,” Reiner reiterates. “If it crosses us, we’ll take it down.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reiner’s right,” you say. “Until then, we just need to keep going.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stay the course with your squadron as adrenaline- and exertion-related sweat pricks at your arms and forehead. The adrenaline takes over and your mind is drained of coherent, linear thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, an eight-meter Titan lunges in front of your path. Its eyes are completely devoid of any emotion, even bloodlust, despite the presence of what can only be the blood of your fallen comrades on its lips. Thundering across the ground on its hands and feet, it grins its beastly, toothy grin at the four of you, leans back in its legs, and then launches itself for Armin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Armin!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” you scream as he just barely manages to launch his horse out of the way. Both he and the horse go down in the process. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before you can react, Reiner has already jumped off his horse, using his ODM gear to swing himself upward around the Titan’s legs. He’s trying to fling himself up to where he can strike at its nape, but the Titan, being an abnormal, is too fast. It rolls horizontally on the ground, swinging Reiner in the opposite direction he was trying to go. Reiner hits the ground hard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fire a black flare,” Jean commands you, standing up on the back of his horse. “I’ve got this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You swerve your horse away from the Titan and grab onto the reins of Jean’s horse to lead it away as Jean springs into action. You hold the reins in one hand and fire the black signal flare with your other, praying that reinforcements come soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You bring yours and Jean’s horses to a halt, dismount, and go to join Jean in the battle. Yes, he said that he’s got this, but you can’t just sit idly by. You have to help. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Jean goes for the Titan, it’s on its back, but as soon as Jean starts to get close, it launches itself upward and tries to bite Jean in half right out of the air. He manages to evade it, but only just. You attach your ODM gear at the Titan’s hip and reel yourself in, whizzing through the air. You swing around so that you’re flung into the air behind the Titan. You’re perfectly aligned with its nape, only you’re twenty yards in the air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But you’re not aligned for long. The Titan moves again, this time trying to grab Jean out of the air. The Titan swats at him like a cat, and Jean is knocked out of the air and hits the ground. Before you feel yourself starting to fall too quickly, you catch a glimpse of the blood spraying out of Jean’s torso in three long, deep cuts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This awakens something primal in you. Suddenly, the thought of reinforcements is irrelevant. This Titan is yours to take down-- only you may, and only you can. A red haze creeps at the edges of your vision as you swing yourself around to reorient yourself with the Titan’s nape. You anchor your gear to your target and reel yourself in fast, positioning your blades for the killing blow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Titan, still on its hands and feet, flips itself over yet again, and now you’re suddenly headed straight for its face. Right as you realize your mistake, it grabs you out of the air. One arm pinned to your side and the other sticking out up high still holding your sword, you start to kick your legs and scream. Time moves in slow motion as the Titan brings you down toward its hot, stinking, bloody mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the ground several yards away, Jean is not dead. He’s on his back, bleeding out, but he’s not dead-- neither are Armin and Reiner. He’s been watching you try to fight. He knows that you’re about to die trying to save him. If you’d run off on your horse when Jean said that he would handle it, you wouldn’t be in danger now. But your tenacity, bravery, and selflessness are some of his favorite qualities of yours. Yes, you would be safe, or at least safer, but you wouldn’t be the person he was willing to give his heart for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re two yards away from the Titan’s mouth, kicking your legs and screaming nonsensically for him to save you, when Jean is overcome by a sensation like his sternum has exploded inside his body. The last thing he remembers is a brilliant flash of green-white light. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When greenish lightning strikes behind you, both you and the Titan that holds you in its grasp are caught completely off guard. For a moment, it forgets that it wants to eat you and its eyes shift to something behind you that you can’t see. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, it remembers, and its eyes train on you again, continuing its slow delivery of you into its mouth. You resume your desperate shrieking for just a second before the guttural roar of a wild animal sounds out behind you, loud enough that it could burst your eardrum. Before you know it, the jaws of another Titan have come up from behind you and sunk into the meat of the Titan’s arm that traps you. You’re dropped, and you hit the ground on your back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air is knocked out of you and it takes a while to catch your breath; at the same time, you’re pretty sure that at least one of your ribs is cracked, and possibly broken. But your back is fine-- you can still move. When you manage to focus your eyes again on your surroundings, the two Titans are about a hundred yards away from you. This new one is bigger than the first one-- about fifteen meters, and it looks like a gladiator in comparison. Pointed ears, rippling muscles, and odd, loose sandy hair-- about the same color as Jean’s hair, actually. But its hair is not the most interesting part of this new Titan. The interesting part is that it’s currently got your attacker by the back of its head, and is repeatedly smashing it into the ground, roaring with each </span>
  <em>
    <span>thwack</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“(Y/n)!” You hear from somewhere behind you. Painfully, you sit yourself up and turn around. It’s Armin. His face is covered in blood. “My leg is broken; I can’t move,” he says. “And I think Reiner’s knocked out. I can’t find Jean.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw him go down,” you call back to him. “I can move… kind of. But I don’t think I need to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where did that other Titan come from?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. It was just </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span> suddenly. Right after that lightning flash. There’s no storm clouds, though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, did you say lightning?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin stares intensely at the Titans battling across the field. “There was lightning that day.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What day?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That day in Shiganshina. There was lightning just before the Colossal Titan appeared.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rather than think of a reply, you watch the Titans with Armin and try to process what he’s just said. Armin is much smarter than you, and he’s evidently had some kind of revelation. He can put a picture together when there aren’t even enough pieces to make a complete puzzle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By and by, the fight ends, and the bigger Titan emerges triumphant, biting into its nape and tearing away the flesh of its neck. The blood of the defeated Titan steaming from its hands, the cannibal stands up, tilts its head to the sky, and lets out a deep, tremendous roar that seems to shake the Earth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundering steps approach from several different directions. Titans are coming to close in on you and your squad. “Shit,” you say under your breath, and heave yourself to a standing position so as to try to fight against them. You’ve long since been separated from your horse and therefore your flares. Hopefully someone is coming, but for now, you have to assume that no one is. Reiner is unconscious, Armin is immobile, and Jean is inexplicably missing in action-- most likely dead somewhere, hidden at an angle that you can’t see him. At this point, you’re ready to welcome a valiant death in the face of overwhelming odds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five Titans approach in three groups, and you ready yourself for battle, planning to swing yourself up their legs to try to take them out. But when they get close enough for you to do so, they just amble right on past you like you’re not even there. They’re not interested in you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They go for the cannibal Titan that saved you. It tries to defend itself against them, but it’s quickly overwhelmed by their numbers and goes down. The five Titans all start to munch on the cannibal Titan’s body. The horrible sound of raw meat being chewed on, blood gushing, and tendons snapping fills the once-fresh outside air for something like fifteen minutes, and you can only watch in shellshocked horror and confusion. Then, as quickly as they approached, the five Titans abandon the steaming corpse of the cannibal Titan. Now, they very clearly are interested in you and your squad, having eliminated their first target. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re so overwhelmed that you feel yourself start to cry, preparing yourself to die with dignity defending your friends and the discarded body of your lover. You’re about to deploy your gear when you hear behind you: “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Do not engage!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You whip your head around, and you swear that you can see halos over the heads of the members of Squad Levi come to your rescue, and behind them, the rest of the Scout Regiment. They probably broke formation when they saw that lightning strike and heard those big roars; if the lightning was so significant to Armin, you’re sure that it’s got the same sort of special significance to the higher-ups. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Squad Levi takes out the five Titans practically before you can blink, and at the same time, you, Armin, and Reiner are recovered by other soldiers and brought up to share their horses with them. When the dust settles, the Scouts form a haphazard mass out in the field. Commander Erwin approaches on his horse and quickly dismounts. You do the same, and automatically wrap one arm around your middle where your wounded bones are harbored. “Are you hurt?” he asks, seeming a bit frazzled to say the least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay. Armin said Reiner got knocked out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We got him. What can you tell me about that lightning strike?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, um…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin answers for you, sitting behind Eren on his horse. “It was right before this other Titan appeared, a big one. It attacked the abnormal that decimated the right flank, killed it, and then after it roared, those other five showed up to eat it. That’s it, over there--” Armin points to the still-evaporating corpse of the cannibal Titan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Erwin nods, turns to Hanji and Mike, and says, “Go check it out,” cocking his head in the direction that Armin just indicated. Then, he turns back to you. “Kirschtein was in your squad too, right? Did he get eaten?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” You answer, your voice full of tears. “He hit the ground; I saw him. He was bleeding. He’s lying somewhere. I don’t know where he is. Didn’t you guys find him?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Erwin looks out to his ranks and Petra responds: “We didn’t see him anywhere, Commander.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand what happened…” you despair, dropping to your knees and burying your face in your hands. You look up at Erwin. “Commander, why did you break formation for us? I thought that the whole point of the formation was that it doesn’t break no matter what.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch it, Cadet,” Levi snaps from his horse behind Erwin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Erwin raises a hand signaling for Levi to let it slide. “I had a feeling that-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yoo-hoo!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Hanji’s voice sounds out from across the field, and all heads turn in their direction. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Crazy shit over here! Come on!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking afar, you see that there’s some kind of commotion happening around the corpse of that cannibal Titan. You thought it was just supposed to be Hanji and Mike there, but there’s actually three figures; there’s a third person. Your heart leaps up into your throat as you realize immediately who it is. “Oh…” you breathe, starting to stumble in that direction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You look dumb and desperate. Sasha approaches on her horse and holds out her hand to you. “I’ve got you,” she says as you take her hand and she swings you up onto her horse behind her. The horse bucks as Sasha snaps the reins, and then the three of you take off toward the commotion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you get there, you unceremoniously dismount from Sasha’s horse and your feet carry you to the object of your pursuit, which is currently being blocked by Hanji. When you get to what used to be a fully-formed Titan neck but is now a strange steaming mass of skin and blood, you say, “Move,” sounding much more desperate than commanding. This is accompanied by a hand on Hanji’s shoulder, which more suggests than demands that they move aside. They move just a few feet away so that you can access Jean as he lies there on his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks asleep, but remarkably unscathed. The last time you saw him, there was blood gushing out of his torso, draining out his life force. Jean’s ODM gear has disappeared and all that’s left of his uniform are the pants and the tan jacket-- he’s definitely not bleeding, from what you can see. But that doesn’t mean anything. One that looks asleep could just as easily be recently dead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You brush a hand across Jean’s forehead, then hover your hand under his nose to check for breath as you lean your ear into the center of his chest. To your complete exaltation, there is a faint yet clear rhythmic pounding in Jean’s chest, and you can just barely feel the warm breeze of his breath on your fingertips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You slam your eyes shut as hot tears start to erupt. “Oh…” you say/whine/moan, your voice wavering. “You’re okay.” Though unconscious, Jean is alive. You sit up and take one of his hands in yours, holding the side of his face with your other. Your thumb rubs roughly on his cheek as you repeat: “You’re okay… You’re okay…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sense something behind you and snap your head around. Erwin and Mike are approaching, and they don’t look friendly. You’ve barely processed that Jean is still alive when you realize that they’re interested in the fact that Jean has just emerged from the nape of a Titan-- something unheard of until now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is not relevant to you. Jean is not a threat-- Erwin and Mike are the current threats. You swivel your body around to match your head and put one hand on the hilt of your sword, glaring at your Commander with a challenge in your tear-wracked eyes: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Come one step closer. I dare you.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch it,” Mike says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guys, maybe you could just back off a bit?” Hanji suggests from behind you. You’d all but forgotten that they were there. “He’s unconscious. You can do whatever you want later, but whatever you’re thinking, he’s not a threat right now.” Their eyes light up. “Yeah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>later</span>
  </em>
  <span> we can do all of the tests and ask all of the questions we want…” Hanji’s voice fades into giddy excitement as they finish talking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Erwin considers this for a moment. Though still authoritative, he looks slightly amused as he says, “All right.” He then turns to you. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just be right over here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fact that people are finding out how much Jean means to you will embarrass you later, at a time other than right now. You take your hand off the hilt of your blade and slowly turn back around. Jean is unchanged. You take one of his hands again and hold it against your face as you run your fingers of your opposite hand through his hair. Now unthreatened, you start to cry again, wiping your tears with Jean’s palm held against your face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, Jean’s eyebrows furrow and his eyes lazily flutter open, unfocused at first. You gasp, and they focus on you. “You’re okay,” you say right away, breathlessly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re okay. You’re safe. Everything is okay. Nothing’s going to get you. Everything’s okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on?” Jean breathes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You… You were a Titan.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just now, I guess.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you talking about?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...You don’t remember.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I guess I don’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smile at him, tears still poking out of your eyes. “You saved me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I?” You nod, and Jean’s lips turn up smugly. “That’s fuckin’ right.” You laugh, and Jean’s eyes drift around to look behind you and in the distance a bit. “Everyone is looking at me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You don’t even bother turning around to check; you can feel their eyes on the back of your neck. “Don’t worry about that right now. Just keep breathing, please.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean shrugs subtly. “Alright.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Erwin says to Hanji, “This is too high of a concentration of humans to have outside the walls. We’ll attract Titans. It’s time to get back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Hanji says, then they tell you gently: “It’s time to go now, okay? We’re going to get you guys into a cart.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” you whisper, still not taking your eyes off Jean. “Can you sit up?” you ask him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I can sit up,” he says, and does so to prove his point. “I’m not a cripple, I’m just… really, really tired right now for some reason.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess that makes sense.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean looks down. “I lost my shirt.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You observe. “Most of your uniform, yeah. And your gear.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean looks at you and grins stupidly. “Like what you see?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laugh, overwhelmed by relief and embarrassment. “Shut up. Just shut up.” You grab Jean’s face in both hands and sloppily kiss the side of his mouth, then lean your forehead into his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have any idea what’s going on,” Jean whispers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. Me neither, really.” you answer. “But things seem sort of okay right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But after that, of course, the shit hits the fan. Jean’s fate, and yours by extension, have now been fundamentally altered. The future now holds more chaos and strife than you ever dreamed it was going to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’ll get through it together. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Interlude Between Classes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Connie x female reader<br/>On a particularly nice September day, you're overcome by drowsiness and fall asleep on a bench outside.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You step out of the double doors of the lecture hall and into the temperate September air. It’s the third week of the semester, so your classes are just barely starting to get into their true weekly workload. You’ve just finished your first class of the day, and you have about a half an hour until your other one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You put in your earbuds and start to walk across campus to get to the building your next lecture is going to be hosted in. You figure that you can arrive early, and just hang out and do some homework until class starts. It’s supposed to be very important for productivity to use small increments of downtime like this to do work, rather than just taking a break. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As you walk, you can’t help but appreciate your campus. The grass is green, the sky is blue, the buildings are lovely, and your fellow students all seem fairly cheerful. Of course they are; midterms haven’t started yet. It’s days like this that help you to know that you made the right choice with this school-- you’re happy here, and you doubt you could be quite as happy anywhere else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You inhale deeply, breathing in the fresh air as your music pours into your ears. Before long, you’ve arrived at your next lecture hall, but rather that go inside, you decide to sit down on a bench a few yards away from the entrance. It’s a metal bench painted black, situated just underneath a small tree, which provides decent shade but for the dapples of sunlight that manage to peek their way through the leaves. You take a deep breath and take a swig from your water bottle. It has a distinct tang to it due to the lemon slice that you threw in there before you left your dorm. You put your bag down at your feet and lie down on the bench, taking a moment to enjoy the nice weather before you start working, and shut your eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What a beautiful day it is. You woke up pretty early that morning, so you’re already feeling sort of spent after your most recent lecture. You only have one more class left, and then you can go back to your dorm to relax. That’ll be nice. A new season of one of your favorite Netflix shows just came out, and you’ve been meaning to catch up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peace courses through your veins and you prop your hands behind your head as a cushion, eyes still shut. Despite the bit of homework you still have to get done today, you feel entirely at ease, not a care in the world. Later that night, you’re supposed to meet a couple of your friends for dinner, and the small amount of homework that you have is just enough to make you feel responsible and productive once it’s done, but not so much that it feels like a hindrance of any kind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You take a deep breath, relishing the feel of the breeze on your skin and the relaxing tones of your music in your ears. Yes, indeed. Life is pretty good. You feel so relaxed that you could almost… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You open your eyes with a sigh and blink away the sleep that made itself at home among your eyelashes. You had turned onto your side while you were out and rested your head on your arm, which is now asleep. You sit up and shake it out, groaning and furrowing your brows. One of your earbuds fell out too, and you look around yourself. Finding it on the ground, you lean over to pick it up, and that’s when you see another person laying down in the grass a few feet away from your bench, looking at you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you’re finally awake!” the boy says. He looks immensely comfortable, wearing sweatpants and a tank top with a big flannel thrown on over top, and his backpack propped under his head and shoulders as a makeshift pillow. His buzzcut makes his ears look sort of comical, but more than anything you think that it really suits him, and his green-gold eyes shine with youthful exuberance. He is, in a word, charming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I guess I am,” you answer and give him a polite smile. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, you don’t know me. I’m just some guy.” He chuckles, and you join in to be polite, still waiting for an explanation of why he’s camped out so close to you, staring at you. The boy picks up on your mild apprehension and goes on, “Oh don’t worry, I’m not a weirdo. Well, actually… No. I mean, I was laying here because you fell asleep, and I was just a little worried.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Worried about what?” you ask tentatively, putting your earbuds in your pocket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, for one thing, you left your backpack on the ground next to you. Someone might have tried to take it, or stolen your laptop from inside it, or something. And…” He glances away from your face for a moment. “Well, there were some guys looking at you because of…” He gestures toward your torso, trying not to look right at you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You look down and see that while you were asleep, your loose-fitting torso had a mind of its own and exposed not only your bra strap, but also all the way down to the top part of your left cup (and along with it, the exposed parts of your left breast). “Oh, shit,” you gasp, frantically adjusting your top. “Shit, shit, shit. I’m sorry. Fuck, that’s embarrassing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy looks back at you again now that it’s safe. “Oh, no, it’s fine. Don’t be embarrassed. It didn’t look </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad</span>
  </em>
  <span>… I mean, you looked… nice. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> thought so. Sort of peaceful. I thought it was nice.” He nervously rubs the back of his neck. “Um…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You decide to help him out of the awkward moment he just created. “Hey, do you know what time it is?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Yes, I do. It’s…” He checks his watch. “3:12.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your jaw drops. “3:12? Are you serious?” You roll your eyes. “I was asleep for two fucking hours. I missed my lecture.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that sucks. Me too, actually.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uh… I had a lecture, but instead I stayed here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smile. “Oh, wow, that’s really weird.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that was weird. I’m sorry.” He starts to get up. “I can just get out of your hair…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hold up a hand. “No, no. It was a good kind of weird. Like, as in, abnormally nice.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh…” He shrugs with a shy smile and sits back down. “Okay, then.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few seconds of awkward silence, you say, “I’m (y/n),” and hold out your hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Connie.” He leans forward and shakes your hand. Connie has a strong handshake, but his skin is strangely soft. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What year are you?” you ask him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a junior. How about you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sophomore.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool, cool…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a guy that was bold enough to protect you from strangers for two hours while you were asleep, Connie sure is having trouble keeping this going with you. It’s like he’s suddenly nervous now that he actually has to talk to you. But you’re not too stuck up to help him out. “You know, I haven’t eaten anything since this morning. I was probably going to go grab something to eat.” You shrug. “Would you want to come with?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie’s face lights up. “Yeah! Yeah, definitely. I’m starving.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay!” you say with a laugh as you both stand up, then start to head for the nearby dining hall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn, you must be really hungry if you haven’t eaten since this morning,” Connie says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I ate breakfast at like, nine. I have some dried fruit in my backpack I was going to eat before my lecture, but that obviously didn’t happen.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that’ll teach you to fall asleep on a bench in the middle of the day,” he teases, playfully nudging your arm with his elbow. You laugh, and the subtle physical contact makes you blush. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, I was pretty tired.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, were you up late last night or something?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sort of. I was just hanging out with this guy that lives in my building.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, oh.” Connie pauses. “Is this guy… a friend? Or is he more of a… close, romantic friend?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You bite back a laugh. “Just a regular friend. I wouldn’t say that I have any close romantic friends.” You smile at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie doesn’t look back at you, but says, “Cool, cool. Interesting,” nodding happily and looking off into the distance in the direction that the two of you are walking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You can’t hold back a giggle at this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, this school was </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> the right choice for you. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>idk i had this idea in my head and i thought that connie fit it best. let me know what u think lol</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Big Decision</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jean x female reader<br/>In the middle of a night, something is keeping you up. Unaware of what your problem is, Jean does something that makes your worries vanish.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You’ve been struggling to sleep for hours. It’s not that you’re not tired or sleepy-- you are. It’s just that no matter what you do, sleep seems to elude you, your mind instead giving way to frantic thought and restlessness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Facing the wall, you roll yourself over, careful not to disturb Jean in bed next to you. Even though you try not to toss and turn like this when you can’t sleep, it’s still a good thing that Jean is a dreadfully heavy sleeper, because he otherwise would have certainly woken up tonight. Ordinarily, that might not be a bad thing-- you could talk to him about what’s bothering you; he could check on you, be the big spoon, and lull you to sleep. Tonight, though, you are in no way prepared to relay to him the thoughts that are swimming around in your head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sigh, you lazily open your eyes. By the reddish light of your electric alarm clock, you can just barely see the outline of Jean’s upward-pointed nose, the asymmetrical splay of his strong arms on either side of him, and the gentle rise and fall of his broad chest. You blink sadly at him. You love him so much, and yet there is so much room for doubt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’ve been living with Jean for two years and dating him for three. They say that the best kinds of love sneak up on you, and that was absolutely the case for you with Jean. Five years ago, when you started your new job and started working with him, you were dating someone else. That relationship was just fine, even though it might have left some things to be desired, for instance, that enchanting spark that binds one person to another. But it was just fine, that is, until you found out that he was cheating on you, and had been for a long time. You’d felt unbelievably stupid when you found out, and it turned your whole world upside down. All of a sudden, you had to move out of his apartment and find somewhere else to live, to say nothing of the fact that you were suddenly alone for the first time in years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One constant in your life during that time was your job, which came with your best work friend, Jean. If he had tried to get with you immediately after the breakup, you might not have trusted him, but it was nearly nine months after your breakup before anything happened between the two of you. After all, who was he to interfere with you when you were so emotionally raw? If you jumped into something again right away, that wouldn’t be good for you at all. He needed to be patient, help you to heal however he can, and wait until you were ready for something new. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of that was very deliberate on Jean’s end, but you yourself would never have guessed that he felt that way about you. That had a lot more to do with you being very dense than it had to do with Jean being slick-- he wasn’t. You were just oblivious, so you didn’t see it coming at all when one day he was your best friend, and the next, he was a whole lot more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is what you reflect on now, staring at Jean sleeping in the pre-dawn blackness. Over the last five years you’ve known him, he’s given you every reason in the world to trust him. And you do trust him. So why is this one thing getting in your way? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You roll onto your back and stare at the ceiling. The answer, of course, is that this one thing would change every other thing if you let it. It’s your choice whether you want to let this one thing happen, though. Your choice, and no one else’s, not even Jean’s-- that’s what your mother and all of your girlfriends have been telling you for the past four days. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But even if Jean isn’t involved in the medical choice about what to do about this clump of cells in your belly, he is still a big part of your personal decision. The pros and cons for this little potential monkey are very complicated. On the one hand, you have the pros: avoiding stigma, participating in the proliferation of the human race, motherhood, falling more deeply in love, all of that good stuff. On the other hand, the cons: pregnancy, money, and the unbearable weight of responsibility over another life form. You shudder at the thought of negatively impacting another living thing. You know for a fact that you can’t do this by yourself, at least not up to the standard that you would like to, which brings you to the major unknown variable in the equation: Jean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Would Jean want you to keep it? Does he see that kind of future with you? Would he propose? If you kept it, would he actually be ready? Would he </span>
  <em>
    <span>stay</span>
  </em>
  <span> committed? If you didn’t keep it, would it kill your relationship? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>These are not easy questions to answer. There are some very scary things that might happen if you tell him that you’re pregnant: (1) he might say that he doesn’t want you to keep it. This could be either because he doesn’t want to start a family with you until you’re married and committed, or it could be because he doesn’t see himself doing those things with you at all. If it’s the latter, it would kill your relationship. (2) He might say that he wants you to keep it, and then jump the gun and propose. Either you would say yes, which would really be rushing into things and might eventually kill your relationship, or you would say no, which would also kill your relationship. (3) He might say he wants you to keep it, but then when the thing is actually around, it might end up that he wasn’t really ready to be a father. Not only would this kill your relationship, but it would also at least slightly ruin the life of a human being bound to you by both nature and law. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thing is, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t even know what you want. Do you see yourself committing to Jean down the line and potentially starting a family? Sure! But this wasn’t supposed to happen right now. There’s a certain natural progression to things-- date, move in together, get engaged, get married, get pregnant, raise children, retire, die. This silly clump of cells is throwing a wrench into the works. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But on the other hand, if you wanted to do those things anyway, isn’t now as good a time as any? If it was always going to happen, why not just let it happen now that the opportunity is here? You love Jean so much, and if you kept this baby, and things worked out, you would be bound to him for the rest of your life. You want that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your head is spinning. But what if it goes wrong? But what if it goes right? But what if you miscarry? But what if you have twins? But what if your child is disabled? But what if you get married? But what if you get divorced? What if you die? What if Jean dies? What if you both die and your child is scarred for the rest of their life? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You need to go to sleep. Spinning out about this in the wee hours of the night isn’t helping anyone. You’ll call your mom again tomorrow and introduce your new concerns in the daylight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You flip yourself over onto your stomach with a huff and bury your face into the pillow. A few minutes later, you hear the sound of scratching, mewling, and yowling at your bedroom door. You sigh. You really don’t want to get up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean starts to stir in bed next to you and groans softly. “What the fuck is that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You keep your eyes shut. “It’s Mitzi. We must have locked her out.” Mitzi is the cat that you and Jean got about six months ago. She was a very hyperactive kitten, and though she’s started to mellow as she grows up, she still gets a whole lot of separation anxiety when she can’t access you or Jean, and she has no trouble telling you so, even in the middle of the night. “I really don’t want to get up,” you say. “Besides, I’ll never sleep if she comes in here to step on me and claw my feet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mitzi continues scratching and meowing at your door. “She’s not gonna stop,” Jean says. “We have to let her in.” You groan in protest, and Jean stands up with a sigh. “I got it,” he says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eyes still closed, you listen to the footfalls as Jean crosses the room, then the soft creak of the opening door. As soon as it opens, the meowing stops, and you hear tiny </span>
  <em>
    <span>pit-pats</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>purrs</span>
  </em>
  <span> as Mitzi is finally admitted into the sacred bedroom and then jumps up onto the bed. Just as you suspected, as soon as she’s in there, she attacks your idly shifting feet through the blanket. You let out a grunt of frustration as Jean sits back down on the bed. His weight shifts forward as he whispers, “Alright, come here, stinky,” and for a moment you think he might be referring to you, until Mitzi’s weight disappears from the foot of the bed. Jean turns a pillow vertically against the headboard behind him, then leans back, half-sitting up. Gentle purrs emanate from where Jean now holds Mitzi against his torso. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You open your eyes and look up at them. Now that the door is open, there’s a bit more light coming in from the rest of your apartment, so the image is more clear than before. Mitzi has perched herself on Jean’s bare chest and is trying to knead his skin, but he keeps uprooting her paws with his index finger so that she doesn’t draw blood out of affection. She gives up on the kneading after a bit and starts to rub her face all over Jean’s jawline and eyebrows. He crinkles his nose and shuts his eyes, not noticing you watching him. He absentmindedly strokes the top of Mitzi’s head and scratches her back until she settles, snuggling in around his neck like a fashionable scarf with steady purrs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, in your mind’s eye, the cat is no longer a cat but an infant child. Your needy kitten could have just as easily been a fussy baby heard through a monitor. Jean got up and dealt with it, letting you, to his knowledge, fall back asleep. Indeed, one of the Earth’s most finicky domesticated creatures now snuggles up close to him, entrusting her little ten-pound body to his care and dozing around his neck and chest contentedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heart leaps up into your throat and then falls out of your mouth in the form of the words, “I’m pregnant.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean opens his eyes and turns his head to you. “What did you…” He shakes his head. “Sorry, it sounded like you said you were pregnant.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stare at him, your guarded, tired expression unchanging. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean blinks. “You’re pregnant.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nod, your cheek rubbing into your pillow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did this happen?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shrug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, how do you know? Are you late or something?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I took a test.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? When?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sigh and let your eyes wander. “A few days ago.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many days?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Four. Four days ago.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Four-” Jean lifts Mitzi off of his chest and puts her back down at the foot of the bed. “Alright, I think everybody just needs to calm down for a minute, here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m calm.” You sit up in bed, rubbing your eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> calm!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shrug. “You’ll get there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you so calm? Wait.” Jean narrows his eyes at you. “Are you messing with me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You snicker. “No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Jean runs a hand through his hair, then pauses. “Wait. You didn’t say whether or not you wanted to keep it.” He glances at you sideways, apprehensive. “Do you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You give a flat smile. “I think I do, actually.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean nods and looks around. His hands start to flutter restlessly. “Oh, wow.” He looks back at you, a huge smile on his face. “Seriously? You’re being serious? You’re not fucking with me? If you’re fucking with me, the joke is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> funny.” Jean sits up and tucks his legs underneath himself to face you. “If you’re just messing with me, you’d better tell me right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laugh anxiously and shake your head. “I’m not fucking with you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is real? I’m gonna be a dad? We’re gonna be parents?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seems that way.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh…” Jean breathes, running both hands through his hair. “Oh, my God…” With a sputtering laugh, he wraps both arms around you and holds you fast against his chest. His shoulders are trembling with excitement and you laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… you’re happy?” you ask tentatively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” He pulls away from you just slightly so that he can look in your face and see the resolved apprehension there. “Of course I’m happy. Did you think I might not be happy?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know! It’s a big deal.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s a big deal!” Jean feverishly kisses you on the lips, then the corner of your mouth, then on your cheek below your eye. “Of course I’m happy,” he reiterates. “I am so deliriously happy, I’m never going to sleep again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, try to calm down. You’re hyperventilating.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I’ll calm down.” He leans away from you to lie back and tries to take a deep breath. He looks back at you with tears in his eyes and a big, nervous smile on his face. “I’m trying to calm down.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You perch beside him and smile, leaning your face into one hand and rubbing back and forth across Jean’s bare chest with the other. “I know. It’s really exciting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s exciting!” Jean runs a hand over his face. “There’s so much to do. We have to, like, buy books and shit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laugh sharply. “Yes, we have to buy books and shit, definitely.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh wow, I can’t wait to tell people. Do you know the sex yet? No, you don’t find that out for a while, right? And it’s just one, isn’t it? This apartment is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> baby-friendly. Should we move? No, we can baby-proof. And you can’t be around smoke or have raw fish. Well, you don’t like raw fish anyway. What about smoke? Well, I don’t smoke. Is this complex smoke-free? We can look that up. Fuck. I need to know more than this. Well, you know about the pressure point right? Yeah, there’s a pressure point in your foot that can induce labor. I know because my cousin had a miscarriage once because her fiance was rubbing her feet and then he pressed it or whatever. Oh, God. That won’t happen, though. Let’s not entertain that thought. I’ll have to do more research…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean rambles on and on. And to think, just ten minutes ago, you were making yourself sick trying to decide what to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, you wonder why you were ever worried at all. </span>
</p>
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